


Fifty Shades of Green

by Novel-Failure (NoveltyToy)



Category: The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Submissive Headspace, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoveltyToy/pseuds/Novel-Failure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was one of the initial drafts of where I had originally planned to take this series. However, my plan has changed, so these scenes are going to be either very heavily revised or entirely scrapped.</p><p>I only posted this because it was one of my favorite scenes in the whole story. (Un)fortunately I've decided to make some major adjustments to my characterization of Norman Osborn. Personally, I like both versions, the one in this story was easier to write but the new and improved version is far more interesting. *Shrugs* This is basically all just an excuse for porn anyway, so enjoy!</p><p>Quick Summary: The Green Goblin kidnaps Harry Osborn and plans to kill him. Not wanting to die, Harry decides to seduce The Goblin, because that’s the only means he can think of to give Gobby reasons to keep him alive long enough that Harry can plan an escape. Harry does not realize that The Goblin is Norman Osborn. Things get really kinky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well, this sucks. Can I get a cheeseburger?

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Osborn and Peter Parker were High School Sweethearts that finally got together during their Senior Year of High School. There was this terrible mishap wherein Harry bonded with an Alien Symbiote that came to be known affectionately by the name "Wiggly Goop," but most recognize the creature as "Venom." Long story short, the Avengers eventually managed to forcibly separate Harry from Venom after the horny alien got super violent and Harry realized that he could no longer control it. 
> 
> However, prior to being separated, Venom was taking control of Harry's body whilst he slept and acted upon some of the boy's darkest desires... one of which involved coercing Norman Osborn into a secret affair. Harry didn't even realize it was happening and believed that those events were only strange, erotic dreams. That is, until Peter Parker informed him of how the alien behaved when Harry was unconscious. 
> 
> So after the big painful event that freed Harry from Venom, Harry went home with his father. Both Osborns were in a vulnerable state, recovering from what had been life threatening injuries, and they were not thinking straight. Literally. Things got very gay. The next morning they both woke up naked in Norman's bed together. So that happened. And then kept happening. 
> 
> Harry was still in love with Peter Parker and he felt terrible for cheating, but he was also still angry over issues involving his boyfriend's alter ego. He made multiple unsuccessful attempts to end the affair with his father, but the affair continued and intensified. Norman Osborn became very possessive of his son and upset when Harry announced plans to move in with Peter.
> 
> After getting intoxicated one night, Harry made the mistake of mentioning his intentions to eventually marry and start a family with Peter Parker. He was torn about whether or not to take Peter's last name and rambled about whether or not to adopt children or possible ask Gwen or MJ to have their babies. Norman was enraged. As The Green Goblin, Norman made plans to kidnap Harry and use the boy to lure Spider-Man into a trap. Oh, yes, by now he already knew Peter's secret.
> 
> Once the trap was set, Norman's better judgement told him to kill Harry. It would be too dangerous to let the boy go. If Harry ever revealed details of the affair, Norman's reputation would be ruined. And this is roughly were this scene is about to begin. 
> 
> The Green Goblin has kidnapped Harry and is fully intent on killing him. Harry has no idea that it is his father holding him captive, and he's trying to figure out what he needs to do to survive this.

#### Well, this sucks,

Harry was being held in what appeared to be an interrogation room. No windows. Just a door and a one-way mirror. Concrete floor and reinforced walls. The light was dim, just a flickering fluorescent bulb in the overhead fixture. There was a constant static buzzing sound. Scritch, scratch, scuttle of bugs or rodents somewhere in the building. A surveillance camera looking down on him from across the room.

The only furnishing was a dirty, naked mattress. No bathroom, but a bucket, a roll of toilet paper, and a bottle of hand sanitizer. There were some bottles of water and a box of granola bars.

Harry’s wrists and ankles were shackled together and connected to a chain that was bolted to the floor. He gave it a good tug and found that it wouldn’t budge. _'Right, well, I guess I’m not going anywhere.’_

Oh, and he was naked save for one ratty old blanket that smelled like it had been stolen from a dumpster.

He was left alone in that room, with nothing to do but to think and to plan.

 _'What_ _do you want from me?’_ Harry wanted to ask. ‘ _Wasn’t the answer already obvious?_ This has nothing to do with me. The only thing anyone’s ever wanted from me was sex, and these are not the sort of accommodations that would befit that end. He either wants something from my father, Spider-Man, Wiggly, or maybe he wants to make some sort of public statement about what happens to any would-be vigilante that sticks their nose into matters they don’t belong. Of course, there’s always the possibility that it’s just a sick game to this creep and he’s only doing it for the thrill. _Great_. _So what do I do about it?'_

 _'Hm,'_ Harry thought, 'there is a better question. _What would Father do?_ Aside from demanding to be released and trying to intimidate the Goblin to death with the force of his glaring disapproval. _Father’s pride would never allow him to beg and plead for his life._ Norman Osborn would stay calm, he’d state facts and maybe attempt to bribe the asshole. Norman would treat this like a business transaction, probably. Perhaps he’d find a way to keep his captor talking, learn as much as he could, lull them into a sense of security while biding time, cultivating some form of leverage, and then seizing on the opportunity to go for the enemy’s throat.'

'I’m not my father. I don’t have his reputation or business acumen. My tactics will need to be adjusted accordingly. But the objectives remain the same. _Information. Leverage. Opportunity. Escape.'_

'The Goblin expects me to be terrified. If I act according to those expectations, he’ll feel safe in his assumptions. He’ll underestimate me. It’ll be easy enough to fool him, obviously, this won’t require much acting on my part. _I am terrified,_ but he expects that my fear will get the better of me. I won’t let it. Certainly there’s a small amount of bravado that’s called for in these situations. He might take pleasure in thinking that he’s broken me, I can play into that notion.' 

 _'The only thing that matters is getting out alive._ All other concerns, such as pride, should be forgotten. I can’t be certain of the time or day, so I’m not even going to try. I’d drive myself insane counting the seconds.'

'This is reality, accept it, and move on. _Think. Plan._ The situation is bad, too restrictive, I need to find a way to loosen these restraints. Brute force won’t work. I need to convince my abductor to remove them. _How?_ I could feign an injury, but… I feel like my continued living is an afterthought to him. _Does he even care if I die in here?_ If I become more trouble than I’m worth, he’ll likely kill me or just leave me here to rot. Until I can get him to reveal his plan, I have to assume that my life is worth little to nothing. _Which means I have to give it value, I have to be willing to give him something. But what could he possibly want?'_

'If he wanted money, he’d have already sent a ransom demand to my father, and that’s just out of my hands. Not worth my time to think about. If he wants Wiggly, then I’m probably just a sitting duck that he plans to use as bait or a trade. Nothing to be done there. _But if this is about Spider-Man…_ Harry thought of the glowing red light on the camera. He’s recording everything I do. Maybe he thinks he can use this to torment the Spider. He’ll want to torment the wall-crawler for sure. I can - _I could definitely help with that.'_

_..._

#### Yes, I'd like to order a Cheeseburger, Fries, Coke and Some Ass Play,

“What’s a guy gotta do to get a shower and a decent blanket? Who’s a guy gotta fuck? Come on, Gobby, you obviously watched the videos. How long are we going to keep pretending that you’re not getting off on this?”

“Let me clean up, _I’ll let you watch,”_ Harry sing-songed his offer, “I’ll even put on a bit of a show, if you like.”

“But if you want to do it in my ass, you’ll have to buy me dinner first. Something _hot._ I’ll settle for a cheeseburger, fries and a coke. Seriously.” Harry threw one of the granola bars at the camera. “I’m not eating any more of this shit.”  

“Finally! What? Did you have to stop by the corner store and steal some Viagra?” For several long moments the villain just stood in the doorway. Harry started to become nervous. Had he terribly misjudged this? Had he only managed to just really piss this guy off? Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot, seeming impatient, trying to disguise his panic behind a cocky grin, “Well, are we doing this or what?” 

The Green Goblin crossed the room, tittering softly, _“So eager, my silly boy,”_ the high pitch of the obviously distorted voice sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. His captor nearly stopped in front of Harry, before skipping around to circle and stand behind him. _“Hmm, but why should I degrade myself by stooping so low as to use the communal cum rag that is Harry Osborn,”_ he spoke so close to Harry’s ear that the boy could feel his hot breath raise goosebumps, _“Do you think you can trick_ me _?”_ the laugh that followed reinvigorated Harry’s determination, ‘ _Yes, yes, I damn well can. I will. Just you wait, Gobby.’_

“Whether you’re genuinely hard under that ridiculous costume or not, you’re going to walk me out of this room, let me get cleaned up, and give me my goddamn cheeseburger.” Harry hissed back under his breath, too quiet for the mic on the camera to catch. 

Gobby paused, humming thoughtfully, “Now why, pray tell, would I do any of that?”

“Because I’ll bet you’re going to show the recording to my boyfriend and _what will_ the Spider-Man _think?_ You can have him believe that I was _willingly_ violated by his _greatest_ enemy. I’ll even pretend to have enjoyed it,” Harry’s whispers were definitely intriguing to the villain. The Goblin had taken to tracing shapes on the boy’s hip with a couple curious fingers.

To cinch the deal, Harry raised his voice, intending for Spider-Man to be able to hear in the recording, “you can brag that you’re superior to him in that way, too. I know how to _stroke_ an _ego_ like you’ve never been stroked before, that’s a guarantee.” This was a development Norman had not anticipated. True, he had thought of raping Harry for this very same reason, but to have Harry willingly offer himself up like this was _so much better._

Harry could almost sense the grin behind the mask. _“Ah, trouble in paradise? So quickly and easily willing to break the Spider’s poor, frail heart into itsy bitsy pieces. Why, of course,_ I’ll happily help you stomp on them. _”_  

Harry arched his back _just so_ and tried to grind his ass against the Goblin’s lap. The hand lingering on Harry’s hip grabbed him _hard_ and held him in place. _“First things first,_ you stink, Harry. _”_ And the boy was forced to turn around as his captor reached for the locks on the cuffs. _“Tsk, tsk,_ such a dirty boy, living in your own filth like this. _What squalor._ You’re going to suds up and rub yourself down, nice and slow, be _very thorough_ , while I watch your _every move._ Any attempts to run or to fight me and you will be _severely punished._ Understood?” Harry nodded. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Yes, Goblin, Sir. Walk, don’t run and no pushing or shoving in the halls. Got it.” Harry could see the strangely colored eyes narrowing through the holes in the mask. “Yeah, obviously, hostage one-oh-one. Do as told or die a slow painful death.” As the cuffs finally slid off he made an ‘after you’ gesture and said, “shall we?” The Goblin snorted and pushed him toward the still open door.

The Goblin walked him out, down the hall of what appeared to be an abandoned police station and led him to a locker room. When Harry realized their destination his whole body filled with panic. Harry suppressed the urge to run, tried to ignore the way his chest ached, his heart pounded, he focused on regulating his breathing - to keep from hyperventilating - while he was both flushed and chilled to his bones simultaneously. _No. Not again. This is very different. Besides, “it’s just a ruse, right?”_ The sound of his own voice startled him, he stopped walking so abruptly that he nearly tripped. 

The Goblin raised an eyebrow under the mask, noticing how Harry’s forced confidence had completely melted away during the change in venue. _Interesting. Still so strongly affected by those memories or is he just that terrified of what_ I’ll _do to him?_ “A ruse, for the Spider’s benefit. Or detriment, as it were,” the villain reassured. Harry breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

There was a couple bags there waiting with supplies. Goblin handed him one with soap, shampoo, even conditioner - what a luxury! - and gestured towards the shower stall that had its curtain ripped off. _So he was still serious about watching._

When he was done in the shower there was a bottle of lotion waiting. “Very _Silence of the Lambs,”_ Harry commented as he dried off. It felt so good to be clean! As he massaged the lotion into his skin, he actually hummed with pleasure. Hopefully this would help ward off the urge to itch all of his skin off. These arrangements were so grotesque, Harry vaguely wondered if it was all just for effect or if the Goblin could afford no better place to hide him. 

The Goblin then led him back into the same room as before with a fluffy new blanket wrapped tightly around him. “I’ll be back, any specific requests for your burger, Harry?”

“Make it a double and I prefer Coke over Pepsi. Oh, if the fries are from anywhere other than Mickey D’s, can I get _a lot_ of ketchup? Um, thanks.” The last part was a polite impulse that seemed terribly misplaced in this situation, but the villain hummed with satisfaction at hearing it.


	2. Fuck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning!** This is where things get really graphic. _Really graphic._
> 
> Dubious consent (at best), this is definitely rape. It's rough, painful, there is some blood and a lot of verbal abuse. Also, incest, death threats, and exhibitionism for the sake of torturing the intended recipient of the video footage.

#### Fuck,

The Green Goblin returned with Harry's order.

“You, um, didn’t actually pull up to the drive through on your glider dressed like that, did you?” Harry was eyeing Gobby's armored Halloween costume, he was both amused and terrified by the absurdity of this whole situation.  

“No, though, now that you mention it, that would’ve been funny. Maybe next time.” _Next time._ Harry didn’t know whether those words should inspire hope or more dread. So perhaps he would survive long enough that _this_ wouldn’t be his last meal, but he’d still be stuck here with the Green Goblin.

Harry didn't waste anymore breath on banter when Gobby handed him the food. Tried to ignore the way Gobby watched him as he ate. As _annoying_ as the obviously distorted voice was, silence from the Green Goblin was even more worrisome.

“You’re uhh… Still here?” Harry asked, as he finished his meal.

_“Mmm. You had your cheeseburger, now I do believe you promised me some ass.”_

“I - No, well, yeah, _I did,_ but I - ” the poor flustered boy stumbled over his words, “I thought - I mean, what happened to before? When you said you didn’t want to stoop so low? Filthy cum rag, remember?”

 _“Oh,_ well... _I guess I’ve changed my mind._ It has been known to happen from time to time.” Harry felt his stomach fall past his feet, right through the floor. Metaphorically, of course.

 _“Harry_ , _be a good boy._ Now. _Hop on the bed and bend over.”_

“You’re serious.” _Oh God._

 _“Deadly. Do I need to demonstrate_ or _are you ready to behave?”_ there was a very dangerous glint in the villain’s eye as he gave Harry a hard stare, and the teen swore he could sense the older man’s smirk behind the mask. From where he’d been lazily leaning against the wall, the Green Goblin straightened up and began to creep closer.

 _“I - no,”_ the boy flinched, which question was he meant to be answering? _“I mean, yes,_ ” his anxiety was practically palpable, the air felt so heavy with dread, Harry felt like he was drowning in the rising tide of panic. _“_ I’m ready to _\- whatever you say,”_ the fearful boy tried to clarify. Slowly, uncertainly, Harry got into position, as instructed, but he was trembling so badly he could barely keep from burying his face in the soiled mattress.

“Um, is this o - Oh! k-kay?” Harry gasped and stuttered, he hadn’t noticed his captor had gotten behind him until he had felt one of the Goblin’s hands reach between his legs to cup at his flaccid cock and balls. He was so surprised that he lost his balance and would’ve collapsed if Gobby’s other arm hadn’t grabbed his shoulder to hold him steady.

The laughter that echoed in the small room was so loud in Harry’s ears that he wanted to cry. Well, there was that and also _so many_ other reasons why he wanted to cry right now. Harry was furiously cursing under his breath as the grip tightened painfully around his testicles before retreating further back to fondle his ass.

 _“Silly, silly, sissy boy, we’re going to have so much fun.”_ A dry, calloused finger with a sharp nail ran down the crack of Harry’s ass as Gobby spread his cheeks to get an unobstructed view of the boy’s puckered hole. ' _God, no, please don’t fuck me dry. Am I going to have to plead for him to let me wet his dick with my mouth first? Please, please, tell me he brought some lube.'_  

Goblin either didn’t notice or was simply unconcerned with the way Harry had suddenly gone very still, completely rigid, while worrying over the prospect of having his intestines torn from unaided penetration and the resulting friction. The Goblin continued to speak conversationally, _“Really, I’m so glad you suggested we do this.”_ The edge of that horrible, jagged nail drew dangerously close to pressing against the tight ring of muscle around his rear entrance, threatening to slice along the path as it pushed inside.

Harry growled, _“Are you?”_ but quickly tried to fix his angry tone to something more forcibly pleasant after remembering how vulnerable he was in his current predicament. “Cuz, hey it kinda seems like you’re trying to make me regret it.” The awful finger curled inside of him, causing Harry to wince and groan, _“Ugh, just how green are you, Gobby?_ Haven’t you ever done this before? It’s going to hurt us both if you forgot the lube.”

“And what if I did? What then, hm? _However shall we make do without proper lubrication?_ ” There was a definite sneer in those leading questions. ' _Yup, he’s going to make me offer to do it myself._ Goddamn Muther _Fucker.'_

 _"Well, I suppose,_ you could wet your dick in my mouth,” Harry paused to lick his lips, tilting his head to look over his shoulder, ensuring that the Goblin would notice the gesture, _“if that’s_ what you’re getting at.” He rubbed his lips together, as one would when trying to evenly apply lipstick, as he watched the villain’s gaze follow the movement, he bit his bottom lip and sucked in a very audible breath before continuing, “But _somehow_ I _sincerely_ doubt that an eminent villainous mastermind such as yourself would come so unprepared.” 

During this spiel, the Goblin had unconsciously leaned forward. Briefly forgetting his mask was still in place, Norman was so tempted to ravish his son’s mouth with his own. He already knew how talented Harry is with that tongue. But he didn’t want to risk blowing his load down the boy’s throat. There would be more opportunities for that. He needed to make sure that Harry’s airway was clear so that Spider-Man would be able to hear every tortured, desperate sound his son made. “Hmm, how _tempting,_ baby boy. But maybe I just like it to be a rough ride.”

“Yeah, _no,"_  the boy wrinkled his nose in disgust, “you can be rough without making a bloody mess. How about you let me prepare myself? I could put on a good show of it,” Harry promised, instantly regretting making such an offer, but knowing he’d regret it more if he didn’t. “Or would that make this whole thing seem too consensual for your tastes?” The question felt dangerous on his tongue but when it was met with giggles Harry couldn’t help feeling encouraged to be even bolder, “Oh, please, _Daddy,_ tell me how best to satisfy your libidinous desires.” Harry’s face flushed bright red as soon as he realized what he’d just said. It had been an impulse, a force of habit, _oh god, oh fuck, oh shit,_ he’d just called _the Green Goblin_ Daddy. 

Above him, the villain was having a good laugh over this, so much so that his hand had dropped away from touching the kid’s bottom. The arm that was still holding Harry steady abruptly pulled and flipped Harry onto his back so they could properly look at each other face-to-mask.

 _“Do I look that much like Norman?”_ At the mention of his father’s name, Harry’s cock began to rise to attention, swelling with such a rush that the change in blood flow left him feeling light headed. Or perhaps just dizzy with fear. 

The stirring of his arousal did not go unnoticed by his rapist, who trailed his hands teasingly down the boy’s chest, stomach and _pointedly ignored_ his penis in favor of spreading his legs so he could comfortably kneel between them. “Hmm _, so_ you are _still hot for Daddy, aren’t you? Tell me, how does he touch you, Harry?”_ The anxiety crawling in his gut was making Harry nauseous. He hoped he wouldn’t get to taste that cheeseburger a second time.

 _“I -_ no, he _\- we never.”_ Harry tried to lie.  Shaking his head vigorously, trying not to moan as Gobby’s grabby hands pressed against the inside of his thighs, so very close to his twitching cock, thumbs rubbing small circles as they slid under his knees and pushed them towards his chest. The anxious boy was completely exposed, _humiliated,_  helpless, and still _painfully aroused_ as his heated glare failed utterly to intimidate the Goblin towering over him.   

“Riiiight, _and my favorite colors are red and blue.”_ Gobby giggled, hands sliding up to pet the boy’s waist and tummy with soothing circular motions. Harry felt ashamed that the gesture was actually proving helpful in calming his turning stomach. The touch was almost tender, except for the threat of superhuman strength as the Goblin pressed too hard whenever Harry reflexively attempted to squirm out of his grasp.

 _"My dad’s not like that.”_ Harry insisted, his voice rising in anger, “He would never hurt me, not like this.” How sweet of the stupid boy, to defend him even now. He should be _rewarded_ for such loyalty.

Gobby’s tone filled with mock sympathy, _“No, no, of course he wouldn't,” and he reached forward to cup the boy’s chin. “Always much too busy, never has_ any _time for you.”_ Harry forgot to breath until his lungs screamed for air; his sight became bleary with tears as he processed the Goblin’s words. With every verbal stab, this man never missed his target, and somehow he seemed to know all of Harry’s weaknesses. _"Oh, you poor, poor baby._ Harry, _darling,_ don’t you fret. _Big Daddy Goblin will take care of you now.”_  

Harry was trembling, his eyes filled with tears, _‘please, don’t do this,’_ he thought, repeatedly, becoming more desperate with each iteration. But verbally, he chose not to object, he had brought this upon himself by extending the offer. If he tried to rescind it now, he would likely be beaten and perhaps even raped regardless. Besides, the larger goal was to seduce the Goblin, to convince him that there was still a reason to keep Harry alive, regardless of whether Spider-Man or his father met any of the ransom demands. 

What had he been thinking before? That this would be fast, hard, painful, yes, but he hadn’t expected the Goblin to take so much pleasure in taunting him. Weren't most rapists just interested in defiling their victim’s bodies? But Eddie and this monster seemed at least equally interested in tormenting Harry, in breaking his spirit and fucking with his mind.

_“You just need to be a good boy, Harry. Can you be a good boy for Daddy?”_

_“I - I'll do whatever Daddy wants. Please. I'll try my best to be good, but if it hurts too bad, I can’t - I can’t promise to behave, I won’t be able to if you tear my insides.”_

_“Well,_ we can’t have that. No. It would be so much fun to watch you squirm and bleed and convulse around my cock, but I do want my boy to still be coherent enough to beg for more. Do you think you can manage that, Harry? If I let you stretch your hole, will you beg me to cum inside you?” 

He didn’t trust his words right then, so the scared teen only nodded. The Goblin pinched his side, hard, and he yelped, “Fuck _, ow_ , yes! Okay? You didn’t strike me as the kind of guy that would _need_ encouragement to keep it up, but okay. Fine. Gimme some lube, and stop pretending you didn’t bring any!” 

The Goblin slapped him. Hard. Across the face. Half his face was red, hot, stinging. Harry tasted blood in his mouth, his lip had been split from the force of the blow. Harry could no longer hold back his tears.

 _“Tsk,_  such an insolent little brat. Naught but a spoiled, stupid child.” The same hand that had slapped him pinched his injured cheek roughly. Harry resisted the urge to jerk away, knowing it would only cause him more pain.

 _'I’m sorry, please, don’t hurt me,'_ he tried to beg, but he choked on a sob instead. On reflex, he reached his arms up to rub away the tears and shield himself but The Goblin grabbed both wrists in one hand and forced them above his head, using the other arm to balance himself above Harry. The awful green mask was directly hovering over his face now. They were very nearly chest to chest, while the Goblin kneeled between Harry’s spread thighs.

“You’ll _learn_ to be more accommodating, less demanding, or I could leave you here, alone, _to suffer and die._ Is that what you want?”

“No! I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was small, he closed his eyes. _“I’m sorry, please, I’ll try to be better. Please, Goblin, Daddy, I just - I want to prepare myself for you._ I fear my saliva would be insufficient. Clearly someone of your strength and stamina would require a longer lasting solution. _Please,_ what else would you have me use?”

 _“Hmm,_ I do like what you suggested before. It seems that you need to be reminded what your mouth is truly meant for. _You’ll kneel and pray that I forgive your insolence._ If I’m properly sated, you’ll procure plenty of fluid with which to prepare yourself.”

 _'Devious, evil, fuck.'_ Norman was having so much fun at his son’s expense. In the time it took for Harry to stretch himself, Norman would definitely be ready for a second cumming. “Understood?”

 _'Oh, I knew I’d regret that.’_ The trembling, terrified teen nodded before remembering that the Goblin wanted verbal confirmation. “I understand,” _you're a sick, sadistic, evil fuck and I hate you._

“I don’t need to tell you what happens if you try to bite me.”

_“No.”_

Gobby gave Harry a pat on the head.

As Harry shifted into position, kneeling at the Green Goblin’s feet, the villain unfastened his pants and freed the erection that had been straining against the material. Harry’s jaw dropped open at the sight of it. Encouragingly, the villain stroked Harry’s cheek and drew him closer. “Magnificent, isn’t it?” The boy couldn’t help the way blood was rushing to his own cock. He pressed his thighs together and cursed his teenage hormones. Harry already felt horrible about this whole situation, the prospect of maybe actually enjoying this even just a little bit was looming in front of him. The resemblance to Norman’s cock was so startling, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine that this was just a really filthy and disgusting scene that his father had wanted to try. His father was so _possessive_ and _domineering_ , Harry wouldn’t even have to stretch his imagination all that far.

“It really is,” Harry admitted, aloud, and blushed furiously when he realized how sincere his response was. Harry’s traitorous body had a weakness for dicks, especially when they look as delicious as this. Which wasn’t to say that Harry enjoyed the flavor, not really, but he didn’t mind it. He’d wanted to suckle at his father’s cock for so long, he couldn’t remember why the idea had first appealed to him. At some point phallic worship had become almost a religious experience for Harry. It inspired him to feel at peace with himself, as he inhabited his rightful place at the mercy of a cunning and powerful man that would graciously allow Harry to supplicate at his feet.

Harry felt himself slipping into a submissive headspace, and sent himself further. A mindless, eager cocksucker. That’s what he was. What he needed to be right now. Let the fear, pain, pride and anger take a backseat, it was time for lust to take the wheel. Despite his nakedness, Harry suddenly felt unbearably warm. 

He let his mouth fall open again,  he was nearly drooling, he was salivating so heavily, wetting his lips and leaning closer, aching to run his tongue along the underside, to bury his nose in the well kept pubic hairs and breath in the scent of sex. He almost whined when the Goblin teasingly began to pull away, just as Harry was flicking his tongue out. Before the boy realized what he was doing, he had fallen forward, following the retreating villain, crawling on his hands and knees.

 _“Please, Daddy,_ I’m sorry.”

_“And how will you make amends, Harry?”_

“By sucking your cock.” The Goblin was still watching him, expectantly, so Harry hurried to continue, thinking quickly about what he might hope to hear, “And letting you fuck my throat without resistance. Please, use my mouth however you want. I  - I would even kiss your feet and beg forgiveness first. _Please, please forgive me, Daddy.”_ This was so humiliating, so erotic, so uncomfortably hot. It was becoming difficult to ignore the heat building between his legs, knees ached as they touched the cold hard floor, his thigh was wet where his cock slapped against it as he crawled. Leaking pre-cum, no doubt. He must look like such a desperate whore right now, Peter would be so ashamed of him. He began to cry anew as that horrible thought sent an involuntary wave of pleasure coursing through his traitorous body.

The Green Goblin’s grin was wide and terrifying. He stopped moving away and looked between Harry’s face and his dirty boots. “Go on, then. _Lick my boots."_  

He tried to suppress his grimace or to at least hide it beneath his hair as he bowed his head over the villain’s shoes. He’d so much prefer to taste that glorious cock, but apparently he was a glutton for punishment. Harry really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, lest he keep offering to do so many unpleasant things.

He made his best show of licking a long stripe across the top of Gobby’s left boot. The gritty texture was worse than the taste, as far as he was concerned, but he made no complaints. Worrying that this would still not be enough, he placed a closed-mouthed kiss over the spot he had licked just before leaning down further to rest his forehead on the cold floor between the Goblin’s feet. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just awaited the next command. 

The villain hummed his approval, admiring the view and feeling intoxicated by the power he had over his son in this moment. Norman couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. _'To think, I’d actually been planning to kill him after all this. What a waste that would be. Hm, but he’ll be reduced to a sniveling coward, cozying right back up to_ Peter Parker _if I let him go. It’ll be such a chore to find a hole in which to keep him. Then, of course, I’ll still have to remember to feed him and see that he’s tended to. There’s reasons I never bothered with pets before. Always such a burden, a distraction from more worthwhile pursuits, but at least now he’s found a way to make himself useful.’_

“Such a good boy, now, see? That wasn’t so difficult, was it? _This is the role you were always meant to play._ Look at me, Harry.” Reluctantly, the teen raised his head and tilted it back to stare up into the Goblin’s yellow eyes. “You should service me _like your life depends on it._ I don’t really have any other reasons to keep you alive.”

Harry’s face paled, this was not entirely unexpected, Harry had already suspected as much, it’s why he decided to seduce the Goblin in the first place, but he resolved in that moment to try like hell to survive. _'Because if I don’t, Peter will blame himself for this. I need to live, to find a way to escape, for his sake. Peter needs to know that this wasn’t his fault. That he’s not responsible for what this monster has done to me. That I don’t blame him for any of this.'_  

A tingling sensation on the back of his neck warned Harry that it wasn’t safe to move yet. “Does that mean I have permission to… service Daddy’s cock directly?”

“Ah- ah, don’t think I’ve forgotten what a busy boy you’ve been, little Fairy Osborn.” The villain reached into his pocket to retrieve a condom. The packaging crinkled loudly as he tore it. Harry was too grateful for the protection to waste any energy feeling affronted over the insult.

Goblin rolled the condom on and Harry got to work. He closed his eyes and concentrated, the weight of it was so familiar, the size, the shape, it was so easy to pretend that he was servicing his _real_ father and he knew _exactly_ how Norman Osborn liked his blowjobs. Harry wasted no time with the foreplay and swallowed around as much of the cock as he could comfortably manage. Quickly and easily opening his throat for him. He was grateful he’d learned to conquer his gag reflex so long ago, now it required almost no thought. All muscle memory.

It surprised him to hear the Goblin groan. One of the villain’s hands twisted in his hair, grabbing a fistful and urging Harry back. The slight tingle at the back of Harry’s neck told him to look up and catch the Goblin’s eyes. 

Watching the boy on his knees, mouth full of cock, those big pleading eyes rimmed with tears and Harry’s own neglected arousal dripping on his dirty thighs, Norman thought his son looked utterly gorgeous. He wondered why it took him so long to notice how devastatingly beautiful the boy had grown to be. He used to think the boy’s submissive nature was disgusting, but now he realized it was something to be treasured. 

Norman wanted to lock his son away, a kept man to pamper and to use as he saw fit. The notion of having a “sugar baby” used to repulse him, but Harry was so perfectly suited for the role. If Peter Parker hadn’t been a part of the picture, he wouldn’t have had to resort to these extreme measures. Harry would have willingly stayed with his father forever if it wasn't for that annoying web-slinging hero. 

The Green Goblin would so enjoy tormenting Spider-Man before finally destroying him. Peter would know that Harry belonged to the Goblin. He would show Parker and his Avenger pals the video. He would make it very clear. _'This boy is mine.'_

With that thought in mind, he decided to forgo allowing Harry any control over the pace. The Goblin thrust his hips forward and forced his son’s head down, holding it there while Harry struggled to swallow around his cock. The desperate boy even tried to hum and continue licking while he steadily grew more and more panicked with his inability to breath. As Harry’s eyes glossed over and the movements grew progressively weaker, Norman decided to be merciful and give his son a moment’s reprieve to catch his breath. 

After Harry was finally allowed to pull away, there was an excess of saliva dripping down the boy’s chin and a string of it still connected to Gobby’s rubber covered dick.

“No clever retorts now, eh?” the villain taunted. Harry was still gasping for breath but his face twisted into a scowl. He didn't bother to wipe the spit from his face, knowing that the man was probably that much more turned on by the sight of it. He decided to take a gamble and lunged forward, ducking under Gobby’s penis, letting the appendage glide over his nose as Harry aimed his tongue for the villain’s taint.

He boldly grasped each of the Goblin’s thighs to hold him in place while he experimentally teased his sac with a few little sucks between licking around his taint and asshole. 

His initiative was rewarded with a high pitched whine, surely exaggerated by whatever tech was being used to distort the man’s voice. When the Goblin overcame his surprise, he encouragingly petted the boy’s hair with a tenderness that surprised them both. _“Mmm, still so eager to please, my, my, you dirty boy. The Spider was a lucky man to have such a dedicated cocksucker.”_  

Harry gave a particularly hard suck to one of Gobby’s testicles and the villain felt horribly tempted to jerk himself off. _“Ah-ah,_ I think you should get back to the main event. _Hm,_ unless you’re enjoying this so much that you want to make this last longer.”

 _'Maybe I’m just not so eager to choke on your dick again, bastard.’_ But Harry wisely kept silent, except for the messy smacking, slurping and humming sounds that he made as he resumed tending to Gobby's dick. He went as hard and fast as he could, hoping to avoid being forced down and throat fucked with superhuman force. He didn’t trust the Goblin to be as capable as Peter in utilizing restraint during such heated activities. Harry definitely did not want his obituary to read 'Death by Blowjob.'

He was so glad when he felt the Goblin’s muscles tense in anticipation of release. Harry swallowed and sucked through the entirety of Gobby’s shuddering, waiting for a clear signal before daring to pull away. The villain sighed with pleasure and cupped a hand under the boy’s chin as he pulled out. Harry licked his lips, still hesitating to clean his face, lest he anger the evil fuckhead. The Goblin smiled down at him, removing the used condom and grinning as he offered it to his filthy little boy, “here’s your reward, Harry. Now, you’d be wise to go prepare yourself. It won't be long before I’m ready for round two.”

Staring with wide eyes at the proposed lubricant, Harry felt his fury rise, but he hurriedly tried to stamp it down before he could say or do something incredibly stupid. This was disgusting, but still generous considering the alternative was having his ass torn to bloody pieces. He reached with an open palm to receive the condom, but Gobby tauntingly pulled it away.

“Now, now, what do we say when we receive a gift?” Harry was completely red in the face with his repressed rage. _'Remain calm, compliant and you might still survive this.’_ With great effort, Harry resisted his desire to slap the offer aside and resort to physical violence. He wouldn’t last three seconds against this monster without Wiggly.

 _“I - oh, fuck,”_ Harry moaned, “you’re too fucking kind, Gobby, such a generous offer. I’m sorry, where are my manners?” When push comes to shove, Harry Osborn becomes theatrical, it’s just in his nature. _“Please and thank you for this honor, of course,_ I'd love to stretch my ungrateful ass with your ejaculate.”

“Hm, do mind the sarcasm, son. Try to sound a little more sincere next time,” but he placed the prize in Harry’s outstretched hand regardless. _'Again with the next time, fuck, this is bad. I might just be sealing my fate to act as this monster’s fucktoy until he gets bored or so rough that he accidentally kills me.’_  

Harry returned to the mattress with his _'prize_ ' and laid down. He closed his eyes, spread his legs and took a few shaky breaths while he tried to will his body to relax. The condom was warm, and he shuddered as he emptied the contents into his hand and spread it on _and in_ his puckered asshole. He tried to ignore the cruel gaze of the Goblin. Harry imagined his father's deep, hypnotic voice telling him that _he was safe._

 _'This is all just a perverse game, son. I'm not going to hurt you.'_ He skipped over the part where father would remind him of their safe word and promise to stop if Harry ever seemed too distressed to use it. Harry stroked his dick, trying to ease himself further into the fantasy while he fit as many fingers as he could into his ass and hurried to stretch it as wide as he could.

As Harry was spreading three fingers inside himself, he was shocked to feel the mattress dip. He'd been panting and moaning and desperate to forget where he was, but opening his eyes to the sight of the Goblin kneeling in front of him forced Harry to remember the horror of his situation. Deciding that it would be easier to keep pretending if he could look away, Harry turned onto his side before pushing himself onto his elbows and knees. He angled his ass up and reached one hand back to keep his cheeks spread for Gobby's benefit.

One of Gobby's hands rested on the small of Harry's back while the other guided his dick into the boy's ass. 

Harry thought back to the last time his father had him in this position. Gently easing in, tickling his sides and kissing his back while Harry adjusted. The Goblin was not nearly so kind and patient, shoving in roughly and pulling on the boy's hair. "Smile for the camera, Harry."

The forced smile looked more pained than happy. He wanted to bury his face in the mattress, to hide his shame, but Gobby wanted to put on a good show. He fixed his gaze on the wall and desperately tried to summon back his fantasy, to trick his body into finding this pleasurable, so maybe it wouldn't hurt so damn much.  

He could remember the way Norman would've touched him. Always careful, deliberate, even when his grip was firm - Norman was always in complete control and ready to pull back if Harry asked him to. Norman could be very rough, even violent and cruel, but there was always an elegance to it. Not like this savage monster. 

“ _God, don’t. Don’t stop. Daddy, just - just finish it already. Cum inside me. Please, please, just cum already.”_ Well, he had promised to beg for the Goblin to cum inside him, and dirty talk always got Eddie off faster, harder, it was a sure fire way to keep him satisfied. With how mouthy the Goblin was, Harry had to figure that it would work just as well in this situation. He tried to forget that Peter, as Spider-Man, would probably be receiving the video. He would explain his reasoning later, Pete would understand, he’d have to understand, because Harry didn’t know what he’d do if Peter actually believed that he wanted this. 

Time to resort to flattery, for some reason guys liked it when people told them their dicks were big. Harry was getting desperate for this all to be over. “Fuck _, you’re so_ big, _Daddy. Ahh - faster - you’re going to split me in half if you push any harder. The fuck are you -_ I didn’t say softer. Dammit, are you deaf? I said _harder.”_

The villain’s pace defied Harry’s demands, slowing and softening, _torturously gentle_ , delaying, winding down just to put off his orgasm for a while longer. “ _My, my,_ so bossy. _Oh so_ _needy_. What’s your hurry, Harry? _Isn’t this fun?” The Goblin saw through his attempts to finish this quickly. In fact, the villain was absolutely delighted with this whole affair, he really wanted to give the Spider a good show._

 _'Hmm,_ _perfect time to remind the little shit that his boyfriend was going to be watching this.’_ After a particularly hard thrust perfectly aimed to stimulate the prone boy’s prostate, the Goblin taunted, _“Mm,_ you’re such a good fuckslut. Spider-Man must miss your warm holes so terribly right now. _Hm, I wonder,_ Harry, does your boyfriend enjoy cuckold? _Do you think it’ll get him off to watch you with another man?”_

Harry gasped in pleasure, then the horror of the words set in and his balance faltered. _‘this guy just won’t shut up with the verbal torment.’ “F-_ fuck. _No, he’ll be devastated.” ‘Pete’ll probably never trust me again. Dammit, why is he making me think about this right now?’_ “You’ll be a dead man if he ever finds you.” Harry warned the Goblin, his tone seething with rage, “Strict moral code be damned.” Much as he tried to sound confident, Harry wasn’t entirely sure of the threat, but he needed to believe it just then. Peter would _make an exception_ and murder this man _for him_. He’d hang up the hero-gig if he had to just to make this right, because Peter Parker was still in love with Harry Osborn. After all of this, Petey wouldn’t let him down.

“Ha,” the Goblin gave Harry’s ass a hard slap, _“let the hero try.”_ Harry screamed from the unexpected impact, involuntarily squeezing the invading appendage that was still being roughly slammed into his ass. He was sobbing, it hurt so bad, and he was so sure there would be blood. The Goblin was bent over him and whispering right beside his ear, “ _You’re mine now, Harry._ The Spider will be as good as dead when he tries to rescue you. _And he will, won’t he? Charging in here with such fury, even knowing that it’s a trap._ He’ll die trying to save you. But don’t worry, _be a good boy and I’ll keep you safe.”_  

_‘No, he’s lying. Peter’s Spider Sense will protect him. It has to. That and his brain and his Avenger pals. The Green Goblin can’t win. He’s the bad guy. If tv has taught me anything, the bad guys aren’t supposed to win. Good always triumphs, in the end, but… but that isn’t to say that there aren’t sacrifices along the way. Fuck, no, don’t believe it. You can’t trust anything that man says, not until you can get confirmation.’_

“No,” Harry felt himself screaming, “if he dies then _I’ll kill you,”_ he was officially through with playing the submissive slut, apparently. He had not meant to say that aloud, but he could hardly think straight through all this rage and pain. The Goblin was still inside him and now his head was being forcefully shoved down. He could barely move, but that didn’t stop him from thrashing and trying to throw the villain off, _“I’ll kill you, I’ll end you, I swear to God, if you hurt him,”_ but he could barely even hear his own screams over the shrieks of laughter. 

One of the Goblin’s hands was tangled in his hair, keeping his face pressed against the dirty mattress. The other was preoccupied holding his rear at the appropriate angle for the deepest penetration. The pounding in his ass increased in both force and tempo. The Green Goblin was getting off on this. _“Still so much fight left,_ Harry, you’re just full of surprises,” it sounded disturbingly like praise, Harold’s stomach turned with revulsion. His threats were reduced to unintelligible screams and moans.

It only took a few more thrusts before Norman came. After the last few shuddering jerks were through, Harry collapsed completely exhausted beneath his father. The Goblin pulled out slowly, frowning when he realized how much Harry had bled on his cock. He’d gotten carried away, used more strength than necessary as he’d violated his son. 

Norman _almost_ felt sorry for hurting him. But it was necessary. Harry needed to know that his proper place was with his father and _not_ Peter Parker. It wasn’t Norman's fault that Harry was so stubborn and stupid that he needed to learn this the hard way.

He flipped the boy onto his back, Harry cringing from pain or terror, he didn’t know. Gobby observed that despite all the stimulation, Harry hadn’t cum. He wasn’t yet completely flaccid, but his erection had withered from the pain and neglect. Norman generously decided that his son deserved a reward for his compliance, never mind that minor show of resistance near the end or some of the boy’s earlier snark. Harry needed to know that his Daddy would take care of him. Gobby could be very kind when he wanted to be.

“Oh, _Harold,”_ the villain’s voice was a contented purr. His large hands, with their long fingers, were gently caressing the boy’s smooth, hairless body. Counting each rib with little taps and tracing over his sternum. _'Ah, his time with the symbiote was at least good for something. He’s so deliciously soft, my baby boy.’_  

As soon as this video was done, Norman wanted to incapacitate or blindfold his son so that he could take this damn mask off and properly kiss the boy. 

Harry didn’t know what to make of these gentle touches. His jaw trembled with suppressed sobs. He wanted to squirm away but was afraid of provoking a violent reaction and his sore body would have protested the movement anyway. He felt trapped under the intense gaze of the villain. One hand eventually roamed lower and Harry went completely rigid as Gobby grabbed his dick.

“I can hardly wait to take you a part,” Gobby pinched one of Harry’s nipples as he gave the boy’s penis a few experimental tugs. When Harry tried to look away, the Goblin grabbed him by the more heavily bruised side of his face, _“Piece by piece,”_ he growled. Harry’s sight was blurred by tears. His vivid green eyes glittering so prettily in the dim light. “We’ll have so much fun together,” Gobby promised and he sounded so _disgustingly sincere._

“And _if you’re a good boy,_ I might even put some of the pieces back. _Just the ones that I want to keep, anyway._ You’ll have no more need for all this anger. _No, no, my son,_ by the time I’m done, _you’ll be happy and content. Completely, mindlessly devoted to pleasing all your daddy’s, oh, what did you call them? Ah, yes, I remember now,”_ Gobby giggled. The sound was absolutely maddening.

“Your only concern will be how best to satisfy Daddy’s libidinous desires. _And he has so many, plenty enough to keep you busy, I promise.”_

 _“Fuck,_ don’t you ever shut up?” Harry groaned.


	3. Short Summary of my Original Intent for this story arc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this story is going to be shoved in the crap shoot, sorry to say, but I may update with more abandoned drafts just to keep stuff that I enjoyed but couldn't fit in with the rest of the narrative. 
> 
> This is the old plan I had, of how completely-psycho!Norman slowly fell in love with Harry, before Ryzal convinced me to change Norman's character from sociopath to schizophrenic and to have it so Norman cared about his son from the very beginning.

**_At first,_ ** Gobby was nothing but cruel. He only came around to torment Harry, to fuck him, and to check in just to see if the boy was still breathing. 

He was very careful, meticulous when it came to cleaning up any evidence, and Harry thought there were cameras or sensors all over the place to alert The Goblin if there were ever any intrusions.

There was the abandoned police station, a lab of some sort? ‘ _I think?’_ Secret headquarters? Idk, and some very dark basements, closets, cages. He treated Harry like an object or an animal rather than a person. And when The Goblin finally seemed satisfied that he’d completely broken Harold… that’s when Gobby started trying to build him back up, as he promised, he wanted to remake Harry as his perfect little slave. 

He set Harry up in his own little apartment. Bars on the windows and a coating that prevented anyone from being able to see inside. The kitchen was very minimal, full piece bathroom. Any dangerous weapons or chemicals were locked away. Gobby warned Harry that if he ever tried to escape or to harm himself, he would be severely punished. The Goblin left Harry with explicit instructions on how to take care of himself while Master was gone. Harry was expected to keep himself fed, to exercise, to read the books that he was assigned, to keep the place clean and tidy…

As a reward, Gobby even gave him art supplies and music. That was the closest he was going to get to therapy. It helped a little, to have a creative outlet.

At some point The Goblin actually started staying the night. Just occasionally at first, and then it seemed like every night they went to bed together. Gobby would kiss Harry goodnight and hold him close. When he left in the morning he'd kiss Harry again and Harold was expected to say something, like, “stay safe, love you, hurry home,” and to greet him when he came back. Harry had to say how much he missed him or ask how his day was or… _ugh._ It was all so horrifying, like a really twisted domestic nightmare.    

The better Harry got at pretending like this was okay, that the attraction was mutual, _the more he acted as if he wanted to be there -_ the gentler and more patient The Goblin became. He started rewarding Harry’s good behavior more frequently with gifts. Toys to play with, books to read, better food, and a nicer place to sleep.

Then… _eventually,_ The Goblin moved Harry to a new place.  Harry wasn’t sure if it was his real home, his official address or anything, but The Green Goblin called it home and he expected Harry to think of it in the same way. It was an upscale apartment, lavish compared to the other places that Harry had been kept before. The Goblin assured him that it was completely soundproof, and he said no one else lived in the building. He’d bought it and had it specially designed to accommodate their little arrangement. Even made a joke about the decor being specially suited to Harry’s tastes. _‘Fuck,_ green used to be my favorite color, you know? _Ugh,_ anyway.’ The Goblin told Harry that he could scream all he wanted while Daddy was gone and no one would ever hear him.

He usually left Harry locked in the master bedroom whenever he was away, and then instructed Harry to stay by his side while he was there. It was all weirdly domestic. He’d have Harry sit in his lap or by his feet so he could pet his hair while they watched TV. And sometimes when he was feeling playful and Harry was too sore for more sex, they’d play games. Sometimes he even let Harry win.


	4. Continuation, just for the fuck of it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning!** Graphic (Minor, Original) Character Death!
> 
> If I had continued this arc, this is probably what would've followed the "Fuck" chapter. The Green Goblin abducts someone to act as a stand in for Harold's corpse so he can trick Spider-Man into setting off a trap that makes Peter feel responsible for the death of his boyfriend. (When in reality, of course, Harry is still alive and safely tucked away in one of Norman's safehouses.)

Gobby picked a random kid off the street. _Well,_ not _completely_ random, as there were a handful of qualities that The Goblin specifically chose him for. First, he was the same size as Harry. Second, the shape of his face was similar enough that their silhouettes would be indistinguishable. And third, he had the exact same hair color and approximate length. Given the damage Gobby had in store for him, there wouldn't be very much of the boy left to identify him. But it was still of vital importance to Norman that this doppelganger be as reasonably close as he could manage with only a couple quick fly-by's in the darkest corners of the city.

A more thorough search than that would have been too risky, afterall the heroes were on high alert to keep watch. He'd even had to forgo his usual bright costume in favor of a more practical stealth suit. Grabbing the teenager had been easy. With the element of surprise on his side, there was virtually no fuss, no fight. All it took was a teensy little ZAP and the boy had crumbled to the pavement in piss stained pants. To keep his low profile, Gobby wrapped him up nice and tidy in duct tape restraints, stuck a little tranquilizer dart in his neck to ensure he stayed sedated, and dropped him into the trunk of a sedan. It was a short drive from there to the abandoned warehouse.

He propped the helpless young man up in a chair while he considered his options. _'Funny,'_ he thought. He planned to kill him, yes, but he'd never stopped to consider how the boy should die.  _He wasn't hesitating._ It was just that... these circumstances were so _unusual._ He'd killed people before, plenty, but the manner of their deaths had been - whether for dramatic or pragmatic reasons - something he had barely even had to think about beyond reaching for his weapons and disposing of the evidence. But in this special case, Gobby couldn't make light of it. 

No, it wasn't enough to have the boy act as a simple standin for the coroner. This wasn't just a means to fake Harry's death. No, _this was also a trial run._ The Green Goblin wanted - _needed_ to know that he could go through with it if it ever became _necessary_ for him to _kill Harry._ His only son. His secret lover. The stupid, foolish, little boy who still adored his father despite everything. Norman needed to know what it would feel like to kill him. To watch the life fade from his bright green eyes.

 _In a way, it would be a mercy, wouldn't it_? To spare Harry any possibility of ever learning the truth about his father. 

 _No,_ that thought didn't sit right with him. Could he kill the boy, let him die thinking that his father was a troubled but a good man? Wouldn't he rather let Harry see him for who he truly is first? There was potential for so much sadistic pleasure, watching the recognition turn to fear and hatred as Harry's mind would process the fact that it had been his father hurting him this whole time.  

 _Perhaps..._ perhaps his precious, stupid little boy would try to deny it, even as the naked truth stared him straight in the eyes.  

While Norman stood over the bound stranger, he imagined the way Harry might beg Daddy to save him. Harold was creative enough that he could fabricate some alternate explanation for everything. _Fuck,_ Norman could play along with whatever story Harry concocted, and even play at being _the hero_ \- pretend that he was there to _save_ Harry, and maybe even take him to bed _willingly_ one last time _before he..._

The sounds of muffled screams and crying broke the fantasy. Wide eyes were staring up at The Green Goblin in a blind panic. The chair tipped over soon after as the poor, dumb fool started to struggle. He hit the floor hard and rolled onto his stomach. His attempts to crawl away were pitiful. But from this angle, it was easy to pretend this was Harry. Norman was satisfied with his selection.  

 _Right,_  well then, back to the matter at hand... Norman palmed his growing arousal, while the other hand dipped into his pouch to retrieve one of his trusty little Batarangs. 

Without sparing it anymore thought, The Green Goblin stepped forward, reached down and cut his captive's throat. As the blood gushed out, he fell back to stay out of range from the mess. The sight was not especially gruesome, not compared to some of the more violent deaths that Norman had been a witness to, but somehow it seemed more disturbing than he would have ever liked to admit. He stood over the body for a long moment, considering what this all meant to him. 

 _Nothing._ It meant nothing. He decided to consider this a success. It was time to move onto the next part of the plan. 

He smashed the boy's face in, knocking out teeth and destroying his features beyond recognition. He wanted to ensure that dental records would be useless. Gouging the eyes out may have been a step too far, but he was annoyed when he realized that they were blue - not green, not like Harry. The body was going to be set in a room teeming with explosives and doused in accelerant. If they managed to collect a usable DNA sample, they’d know it wasn't Harry, but the tests would take time to run. And the true cause of death wouldn't be readily apparent, either. Meanwhile, the press would surely run with whatever little they knew. When Spider-Man and his cohorts came to rescue Harry, they would trigger the explosion. Peter would feel responsible...

“During a rescue attempt by the Avengers yesterday there were reports of multiple explosions. The building burned down too quickly for the firefighters or heroes to intervene. Human remains were found inside, as of yet unidentified. Harold Osborn is presumed dead, although due to the damage, it may take several weeks to verify. At the time of this publication, we were still waiting on a usable DNA sample to be tested and compared."

**“Have you heard the news, Harry? You’re a dead man.”**

“Aren’t you curious about what they’ll say in your obituary?” 

_"Hm?"_

"Not in a talkative mood today?"

"Well, if you're just going to sulk in silence, then _fine_. Go ahead. I have a funeral to prepare for. It'll be so fun to see the look on Peter's face. Perhaps I'll even offer him a tissue, my condolences, you know. It's the friendly, neighborly thing to do, isn't it? I'd offer Norman a shoulder to cry on, but frankly I'd be surprised to see your father shed even a single tear." 

_'Fuck Off.'_

Harry didn't dare say it aloud. What good would it do? Why give the creep the satisfaction? Not that it mattered, The Goblin seemed pretty satisfied with himself regardless.  

The Goblin turned the lights off and left. The door closed. The locks clicked into place. Harry was left alone in the dark with nothing but his thoughts. 

He buried his face in his knees, hugged his legs tightly and he cried. Not for himself, he didn't deserve it. Harry cried for Peter, for Mary Jane, Gwen and Aunt May. They all had big, bleeding hearts. They would be devastated, but they would all lean on each other - they would find some comfort even now and eventually they would recover.

He tried not to let his mind wander to his father. Norman Osborn didn't have anyone else, not as far as his son knew. And Harry had gotten very...  _close_ to his dad recently. Was that a blessing or a curse? That they'd been given that opportunity just before everything went to shit. Harry didn't know. But he cried enough for the both of them that night.

The Green Goblin thought his taunt cruel, but Harry decided that he knew his father better than that freak. Norman Osborn wouldn't cry for Harry, because Harry wasn't dead. Father's could sense that sort of thing, right? Norman Osborn wouldn't give up on his son, on his lover. And if Daddy would stay strong for him, than Harry could too.  Harry would keep fighting and he would escape. He promised himself this. More importantly, he silently promised his father, _'I will survive this. I will come home, Daddy. Don't lose hope.'_


	5. Playing Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random unfinished draft. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: vague mention of a mystery medical procedure being performed by someone who is not a doctor.

One step up from the interrogation room. Harry woke up in what looked like a lab. _'Secret Goblin Headquarters?'_ he wondered. He was strapped to a table. For one terrifying moment he thought he was being prepped for a vivisection or an evil experiment. There was a bright light cast in his eyes. He squinted and tried to look around the room. When he tried to open his mouth, to ask _'what's going on?'_ Harry noticed the gag in his mouth. Using his tongue to investigate, he decided that it felt vaguely like he was wearing a mouthguard and sucking on a rag. A strip of tape was sealing his lips shut.

"You're awake. Finally." He was horrified to see the Goblin swim into his view through the blinding light and the frustrated tears. _'What is he doing to me?'_ Harry was very scared. The Goblin had a white lab coat thrown over his usual costume and it was not a sight that inspired confidence. _'Does this guy even have a medical degree or any idea what he's doing?'_

Gobby had a bloody scalpel in his hand. "How are you feeling, Harry?" The boy’s eyes widened in terror as he noticed the implement. He mumbled through the gag. "No, don't speak. Yes or no, shake your head. Do you feel any pain?"

He shook his head automatically and that's when he realized that he felt tingly. Numb. _'Am I in shock? Has he drugged me? What is going on?'_

 _"Hm,"_ the Goblin actually seemed troubled by that answer. "A temporary side effect, probably nothing to worry about... Oh, don't worry, Harry, I'm a Doctor. _Not a medical Doctor,_ but this really isn’t all that complicated.”

The drugs and the shock wore off, eventually, and _then he hurt everywhere._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And no, I don't feel like saying exactly what medical procedure I had originally intended for this scene. But I will say that part of it involved implanting a tracking device (as insurance, in case Harry ever managed to escape).


	6. Close Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... There's some confusion about the notes on how I initially intended to build the backstory for **this particular version** of events, so here's one of my old drafts for the first time Norman has sex with Harry. 
> 
> Harry was unconscious and possessed by the symbiote at the time. Norman had just finished watching the videos that Eddie made (from when he was raping a much younger Harry).

**Close Encounter**

Norman had watched the videos. _The Videos._ The ones Eddie Brock had made for his own pleasure and to blackmail Harry into complying with his demands for more, rougher, and riskier sex acts.

Norman Osborn had not intended to watch those videos for his own pleasure. When he acquired them it was only for purposes of gathering information. Since the videos were out there, Norman had decided that he needed to see them himself so that he could anticipate what kind of damage they might cause. Not to mention that it had hurt his pride to realize how long this had been going on and still managed to escape his notice.

If anyone asked him, he would have said his son was handsome. But privately, to himself, he had to admit that Harry was _so very pretty._ Too young and still under developed for Norman’s tastes, but he had good genes and delicate features that would certainly be improved upon with age. If the boy’s father could be used as a predictor for the boy’s future, it was all but guaranteed that Harry would eventually grow to be a very striking and gorgeous young man. 

Norman was overwhelmed with arousal when he heard Harry calling out to him in the throes of passion. _And Norman was somehow so sure that Harry had been calling out to Him and_ not _Edward Brock, Jr._ “Daddy, please. It hurts too bad. I can’t do this. Daddy, Daddy, please stop. Stop!”

“Oh, oh god, Daddy, _harder. Faster. I’m so close,_ Dad _\- please. More.”_

 _Admittedly, yes,_ Norman found the images titillating. Harry, on his knees, wide green eyes full of tears, choking as he attempts to overcome his gag reflex. Eddie liked to keep one hand in Harry’s hair to guide him, to pull and push roughly to force the boy’s head down further. Harder. Faster. And the older boy had generously cooed and heaped on praise. “Defeating the gag reflex is an important skill for an aspiring young cocksucker, and you’re well on your way, Harry. You’re being such a good little sissy boy for Daddy. Yes, just like that. Oh, yeah. You know how Daddy likes it.”

“Oh, Norman would be so proud if he could see you now, Harry. All covered in sweat, tears, piss and cum. I’m sure this is exactly how he’s always imagined you’d end up. Like your whore of a dead mother. Filthy and pathetic. All torn up and used. Such a sorry excuse for a son, Harry, but you’re still good for one thing. And do you know what that is, Harry? No? I think you do, Harry. And I want you to say it. What are you good for Harry?”

"For draining Daddy’s balls. For - for drinking all of Daddy’s cum and - and for being a good little slut and doing whatever I’m told.” 

 

...

  
It had been a very long day in the office doing damage control for this latest most outrageous scandal. Winding down by spending two hours in his home gym had done nothing to reduce his outrage or calm his nerves. 

Norman Osborn had been completely blindsided by the news when his son had revealed to the world that he was The New and Improved Black Suited Spider-Man. After testing his powers for several weeks on common criminals and providing assistance in several emergency situations, his son’s most prominent act of heroism had been exposing Edward Brock, Jr and providing evidence and testimony in the case against him. 

Norman had been furious to learn about Brock. Especially since a piece of the evidence included a video confession in which Brock had lied and attempted to implicate Norman Osborn in arranging the rape of his own son. Preposterous. When Norman had confronted Harry, the poor stupid boy had actually believed those lies, even if only for a moment. 

Taking a glance at the still lightly swaying punching bag, Norman considered going for another round, but the clock on the wall dissuaded him. No time for that, there were still other matters requiring his attention tonight. Norman contemplated checking up on Harry, quickly, he was in no mood to play the role of the concerned parent. Norman should probably feel more regret for his son’s perception of him as being capable of such monstrosities. It was terribly inconvenient for Harry to be peeking beneath his mask. Norman should’ve realized sooner that his son wasn’t as oblivious as he pretended. 

The old man reluctantly left the gym and headed in the direction of his son’s bedroom. A quick appearance now would be too little, too late to fix things, but if the videos were any indication, it didn’t really matter that Harry suspected or maybe even knew about what his father is underneath all pretenses of being an upstanding citizen, philanthropist, father and successful businessman. Harry still craved his approval. Harry still desperately wanted to be loved. And perhaps Norman would now be willing to provide just enough validation to keep his son satisfied, _if only to keep that boy quiet and in-line._  

He knocked twice on his son’s door and called his name once before opening it. Harry looked up to him from the desk, where his computer was on and several papers were scattered about. “Finishing up your homework?” When the boy opened his mouth to respond, it came out as a yawn and a short nod. “You look exhausted, son. Whatever’s left can wait for the morning.” Norman mustered up his best pitying glance as Harry continued to stare at him dumbly, seeming confused. ‘Ah, _I suppose it seems unusual for me to be more concerned with his well being than his homework.’_ “With fresh eyes, it’ll be much easier. Trust me.”

 _‘Now for just a small measure of comfort and affection.’_ Norman fully entered the room and moved to Harry’s side, reaching over him to save the documents he’d been working on and to shut the computer off. Meanwhile, Harry dropped his head on the desk and looked half-asleep already. Mildly upset with having to waste his time like this, Norman eased the boy’s head back up and pushed the rolly desk chair across the room towards the bed.

“Dad,” Harry’s bleary eyes blinked owlishly up at his father.

“Get into bed, son. Get some rest.” Norman tried to nudge him out of the chair, wanting to hurry this interaction along so he could get back to work.

“No, Dad, I -” the boy’s eyebrows knit together, a pained and oddly serious expression for someone only barely awake. “I’m sorry. About the other night. What I said -” and Harry looked down, nervously fidgeting with a loose thread on his shirtsleeve.

“We can talk about this _later,_ Harry.” _Finally_ , the boy moved to get settled into bed, but as Norman turned to leave he felt a tug on his arm.

“I just - the other night, you said you wanted to start over. Me and you. And I - I think I’d like that. If that opportunity is still on the table?” Harry’s eyes were so hopeful, shining with unshed tears. Norman… hesitated, trying very hard to erase all sounds of annoyance from his voice or body language. “Dad?” his son was nearly pleading with him for this second chance.

Of course, now it was unfortunate that Norman had watched those videos. He couldn’t help but be reminded of how the boy had cried out for him and begged to be used. He was almost tempted to instruct Harry to begin using his first name, because ‘Dad’ brought back those delicious, vivid memories of seeing the boy on his knees, prone, spread, thoroughly fucked and dripping with various bodily fluids.

“Of course, Harry. Now get some sleep.” Harry’s hand had slid from Norman’s forearm to his wrist, but it hadn’t let go. With a sigh, he took the hand into his own and gave it a little squeeze before placing it over his son’s heart. Then he did the unthinkable and actually tucked the blankets around the boy’s shoulders. The image of his son with cum covered lips and chin was still fresh on Norman’s mind as he leaned down and gave Harry’s forehead a featherlight kiss. Harry moaned so loudly that his father immediately regretted the kind gesture. Noticing that the boy had already fallen asleep, Norman made a hasty getaway.    

Harry had definitely become a more frustrating distraction as of late. Worse than his mother ever was by far, but Norman was already under too much suspicion to risk dealing with the boy in the same way. And the alien would make it too difficult, besides. All that was left to do is attempt to mitigate the circumstances. With a scowl, Norman took a detour to his bedroom. The office would have to wait. Tonight the most prominent of problems was forming a tent in the front of his pants. A simple base impulse. An itch that needed to be scratched if he wanted any hope of regaining his focus.

Entering his private chamber, Norman immediately peeled off his shirt - which had stuck unpleasantly in a few places from the perspiration during earlier activities in the gym. Locking the door and tossing the smelly garment in the hamper, he considered whether or not to take his shower now or after. The sweat intensified the scent of his expensive cologne from suggesting a sensual luxury to an unabashed lewdness. By Norman’s standards this olfactory experience could only be improved upon with sex or bloodshed. Norman decided he would bathe after. If done right, this exercise would create more mess anyhow. 

Norman dimmed the lights, removed his socks and retrieved a bottle of silicone based lube from the bedside drawer. His eyes flitted between a small selection of toys before settling on a cool glass wand with a design that gradually increased in size, the flared base doubling as a convenient handle. He set both items within easy reach of his usual spot on the bed. Thoughtfully glancing between the sheets and the en suite.

An orgasm would tempt him to stay in bed long after the fun was over. It would be so easy to fall asleep once he rendered himself completely senseless and let all the tension, coiled tightly in his oh-so-firm musculature, have a chance to completely dissipate. Growing impatient but not too keen on waking with fuzzier teeth than could possibly be avoided, he hurried through the necessities of his usual bathroom routine. 

While facing the mirror Norman’s thoughts returned to the young man that shared much of his likeness. _So Harry gets to continue living in the lap of luxury afforded to him at his father’s expense,  and_ _for all that Harry has been good for -_ which is still nothing as of yet, but a thorn in Norman’s side - _the very least the boy can do is make himself_ _useful._ Norman’s loins ached with want as he remembered the sounds of Harry pleading for mercy, _more_ , and expounding upon his only purpose in life as a submissive slut servicing his father’s sexual appetite. Whether the words were just lines fed to him by Eddie or if they had been of Harry’s own design, the slut _would_ be draining Daddy’s balls tonight.

Norman Osborn made himself comfortable in his expansive, luxurious bed. It was very infrequent for him to take the time to satisfy his sexual urges, the _hunger_ for power over other creatures was always roaring beneath the surface, but there are so many other enjoyable ways to abuse that power. Sex was one of the more complicated and messy of paths to take. The hassle of involving another person often involved risks that far outweighed the benefits of an orgasm, especially when there were so few individuals that ever aroused the desire.  

‘Eddie had been on to something, with his demands for total submission.’ Norman mused. Considering the great pains and efforts Eddie must’ve had to take - the long con of pretending to be the boy’s friend first. Earning his trust, learning his secrets, and biding time for the perfect opportunity to begin making his move. Testing the waters with small gestures, probably only just brushing the back of Harry’s hand or putting his arm around the boy’s shoulders classic cliché pretend-sleepy-style.

Harry had been so devastated by his father’s utter indifference towards him. Always clawing for approval and being ignored. He must’ve felt so neglected, Harry would just melt into the gentle, tender touch of an affectionate older man. His son must’ve been an easy target for a smart sexual predator like Edward, Norman should’ve realized that sooner and monitored him more closely. He’d given Harry too much freedom and misjudged the adolescent’s temper tantrums and panic attacks as simple, disgusting, personal shortcomings rather than symptoms of a much larger problem.  

 _‘What could I have done? Kept Harry all to myself?’_ Behind locked doors, chained to the bed. It would have been a pretty picture, to have seen the boy bound, naked and waiting upon Norman’s return each night. Longing for human contact so deeply that the simpering fool would acquiesce to any and all of his father’s demands.

Norman groaned aloud. He would’ve been a far more creative Master than Eddie. There are so many things more perverse than watersports and blowjobs. Harry would belong to _him. Mind_ body, heart and soul - _all his for the taking_ \- he would never have to rely on idle threats or blackmail to have his way with Harry. The boy would come crawling to him on hands and knees, begging to be abused, without having to be _instructed_ or slapped around _._ It would simply _be_ the boy’s natural state, to be living in service of Norman Osborn and worshipping him _like a god._  

With that thought in mind, Norman unbuckled his pants, raised his hips off the bed, pushed the remainders of his clothing down and kicked them onto the floor.

Norman’s cock was hot and heavy in his hand. As he wrapped his long fingers around the base, he thought of Harry’s smile on the rare occasions that Norman had offered him any sort of praise. The boy was always so _eager_ to _please_ his father that he would lap up any sort of encouragement that Father deigned to give him. Lapping at Daddy’s impressive cock would be a great reward.

A reward that Harry would savor, shamelessly. Slowly, at first, and probably tentative, looking up into his father’s eyes and begging for approval until Norman ran fingers through his son’s hair and urged him to go faster.

 _‘Don’t spill a drop of my superior seed, boy, or you’ll be cleaning the mess with that sinful tongue of yours_.’

_'_ _Please, Daddy, cum inside of me. Save it for my tender asshole, it’s so much tighter and more greedy than my mouth.’_

_‘Hmm, well, if you insist. How can I deny such a polite and humble request?’ Ah_ , but should he position the boy on his back or keep him on his knees? Tempting thought to just lift the boy and settle him on his lap or against a wall. Missionary would be the ultimate loving gesture, and his son had definitely not done enough to earn that. Besides, he wasn't through yet with making the boy _beg_ for it. _‘Stay on your knees and turn around.’_

 _‘Ass up. That’s a good boy.’_ just a quick little tap on that firm little ass and Norman, still in his fantasy but also in reality, reached for the lube.

Norman squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fore and middle fingers, using his thumb to spread the cool liquid and ensure they were completely coated with the slick fluid before teasing his puckered entrance. Imagining his son’s moans and the way Harry would impatiently wiggle his hips to try to thrust back and impale himself. Harry was such a gorgeous, reckless little twit.

 _‘Hold still Harry’_ his son’s whole body would tense with the effort to keep from shaking. _‘And relax,’_ Norman would probably have to slowly guide the kid’s breathing, in and out, and let his hypnotic words lull Harry into a mindlessly compliant set of holes.

 _Finally,_ he would begin stretching the boy in earnest. Curling and scissoring his fingers, adding a third. Norman gasped as he touched the bundle of nerves inside himself that sent a shockwave of pleasure through his entire body.

When the boy’s insides were deemed slippery enough, he would lubricate the toy - forcing his son’s head back down if the boy tried to sneak a peek over his shoulder.

_‘Fuck, tha - ahh, that’s so cold, Dad. No, please, Daddy, I want your dick.’_

_‘You haven’t earned it, yet, Harry. Besides, I need you to show me that you’re capable of handling my manhood. Do you really think your tight little ass is ready to take all of me?”_ With the entire length of the glass wand, sans the flared base, stuffed in his asshole, Norman used both hands to grasp his own dick as he clenched around the intrusion. Delighting in the fullness he felt, the discomfort a small price to pay for the way the dildo heightened every sexy sensation.

_'Yes, please, let me try. What do you need from me? What shall I do to earn the privilege of having your long, thick, beautiful cock tenderizing my - ah, my shameful, humbly undeserving rectum? I would do anything, Sir, Father, please, to have my God bless my insides with his precious seed. Fuck me as much as you like, wherever, however and whenever you want it. Take me, Father, I’m yours. Only yours.’_

Eddie’s mistake had been to share his toy. Norman would have never allowed that. _Harry was his. No one else would ever be allowed to touch him. ‘I made him, in my own image, he is mine. Only mine. No aliens, horny boys, superheroes, or anyone else will be able to steal what is rightfully mine.’_ Norman was so very close to tipping over the edge now.

The old man was oblivious to the sound of his door being jimmied open - the locks apparently no match for the symbiote’s tendrils. Norman’s quiet moans, labored breaths and the smacking sound of his penis in hand were loud in his son’s ears. This was such a strange and erotic dream. ‘ _No, please, I don’t need to - to see, oh my god. Oh - oh god, don’t let me jizz in my sleep over the image of my own Dad jerking off. Fuck.’_

Like a fucking ninja, the black suit moved its host to Norman’s bedside, close enough to reach out - and many small, slithery tendrils did reach out from Harry’s arms and torso. Before Norman had the chance to realize that he was no longer alone, he felt the wet appendages wrap around his limbs and effectively immobilize him. He was completely ensnared in the creature’s webs and immediately outraged. For several moments in shock he choked on his words while the creature bent over him and made a terrifying sound like a purr, its entire body - including the restraints - vibrated to the same measure.

Norman’s hand had been forced to tighten painfully around his cock, completely halting his building progression towards climax as the thing flicked an inhumanly long tongue out, tasting sex, sweat, and surprise in the air. The muscular organ was protruding from an opening that had appeared where Harry’s mouth should be and extended across half of his face in a wide, toothy grin. “No,” It hissed, “Not yet, Osssborn. You can’t be allowed to finish without usss.” Come to think of it, those teeth were definitely _too large_ and _too sharp_ and _too many_ to be human, either. It was an unsightly smile, all jagged and unevenly spaced across the creature's gaping maw, but at least it distracted from the intimidating white stare of what seemed to be a large misshapen mimicry of the eyes on Spider-Man's mask. This was the stuff of nightmares, a sick parody of the web-slinging hero. _The alien symbiote, revealing its truly monstrous form, finally._ As pleased as Norman was to at long last meet the monster in its stunning approximation of flesh, the timing could not be worse, he had no weapons within reach or means of containment.  

“Harry? Is that you?"  It continued to advance on him, fully crawling onto the bed, tilting its head and appraising the trapped human beneath it, confused that he could seem so ... calm. He should be horrified. Osborns must be an unusual breed of stupid or brave. Norman mistook the creature's quiet lingering stare as hesitance. " _Get off and get out! Hey!_ What're you -" Stormin' Norman's angry tirade was abruptly ceased as it thrust one of Harry's hands over his mouth with two fingers extended in a shushing gesture. 

The Symbiote then leaned so close to Norman's ear and spoke so softly that its tired host could not understand the words, “ _Shhhhh, the boy sleeps. We must be quiet, soft, try not to wake him.”_ The tongue flicked out again to run the entire length of Norman’s neck and chin, looping around to taste under and inside the man’s ear before cooing softly. _“Let’s give our hossst something nice to dream about.”_  

Norman raised his voice to an angry shout, “No. Harry! Wake - !” the Symbiote was furious and roughly shoved it's wide mouth over the human’s in an attempt to swallow the ensuing screams. One of Harry’s hands reached out to warningly squeeze his throat as Norman gagged on the length of tongue apparently attempting to lick his tonsils. When the humans struggles were reduced from violent tremors to whimpers and weak shivers, Wiggly Goop pulled away just far enough to speak between dragging its teeth against Norman's bruising throat.

“Next time you resist, we will not be so gentle. Relax, _Father,_ this will only hurt a little bit." The Symbiote then purposefully slipped just far enough to create a small incision just above Norman's collar bone. The tongue flicked out again to catch the beads of blood. "Mmm, unless you disobey _,_ then this will hurt a lot.” 

Norman was seething. This _thing_ thought it could dominate _him,_ Norman _goddamn_ Osborn. But it was still attached to _his_ son, expressing a desire only to please its host, and that gave Norman some leverage to work with. Harry would prefer him alive after all this, so at least there was no concern for mortal peril. Although, why the symbiote thought Harry wanted to fuck his own father was still slightly disturbing, but then again Norman _had just_ been beating off to the idea of banging his son so he wasn’t really in a position to judge right now.

"Do you understand?" The creature grew impatient with the human’s silence. It grabbed at the glass toy still protruding from Norman’s asshole. Dragging it out and roughly shoving it back in, it growled, _“We do not like being ignored. Father.”_

Norman bucked against his restraints. "I should think you'd be used to it by now, Harry.” His eyes had rolled briefly into the back of his head as he tried to thrust his hips up into the swell of Harry’s ass. When the boy’s body was raised teasingly out of reach, Norman scoffed, “If you really hope to intimidate me, creature, then you should've picked yourself a better name than _Wiggly Goop._ ”

It hissed, “Host likes the name.” The alien actually sounded irritated by the insult. _How cute._ “It’s endearing.” It said the word as if it didn’t fully understand what it meant, but knew that this quality was somehow important. Norman would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t still too busy trying to stare the monster down… onto his waiting dick.

“Just get on with it then,” Norman declared in his most authoritative tone. The creature flicked its tongue across his face, still confused by the lack of fear. Again, this human acts so eerily calm in the face of great danger. “I have an early meeting tomorrow, so if we could just wrap this up _quickly..._ ”

 _‘Well, at least now he seems compliant.’_ The symbiote shifted Harry’s position, exposing the boy’s ass to rub directly against Norman’s erection. Though slightly muffled through the strange film the alien had formed over his mouth, Harry’s moan was still quite loud. The black suit pulled his cheeks aside, so that his father’s cock could easily slide between them, tantalizingly close to pressing inside his tight hole. “ _Such a fucking tease,”_ Norman complained when he was left achingly unattended while tendrils of the symbiote slithered inside Harry. The boy’s body fell forward so all the boy’s moans fell onto his father’s shoulder.

As more of the viscous fluid-like appendages entered Harry, they explored deeper and spread his opening wider. His breath hitched, his face slipped sideways to whisper encouragement directly into his father’s ear, “ _Please, more, harder, fuck me faster, Daddy.”_  An errant tendril pulled Norman’s dick from the cushion of Harry’s bottom to instead rub against the boy’s newly exposed groin. Harry’s dick throbbed against his father's. The alien’s slick sliding between them and molding around them, pulling them together and teasing the lengths of their shafts with gentle rolling waves provided by the movement of the symbiote’s fluid form.

“If this goes on much longer you might just bore me to death. Is this a violent rape or a tickle pile at a third grade birthday party, Wiggly?" Osborn was decidedly unimpressed with the creature’s gentle foreplay. The symbiote growled in warning and dragged a clawed hand down Norman’s chest, hard enough to sting but not to draw anymore blood.

Harry’s body was propped up, with his knees on either side of his father’s waist, the black suit pulling back to reveal tantalizing glimpses of Harry’s flesh beneath  - nipples, rippling abs, and his weeping cock hovering just out of Norman’s reach. When the symbiote finally pulled away to reveal the boy’s face, Harry’s eyes were only half lidded and glazed with sleep. “Dad” he murmured just as Norman’s cock was _finally_ guided into the teen’s thoroughly stretched asshole.

“Harry -” the desperation in Norman’s voice was torn between wanting his son to wake up and hoping he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to explain what was happening, and at this point he certainly didn’t want it to stop, not when he was so close. Disgusting as this whole affair was, the pleasure was simply unmatched by any of his previous sexual encounters. Norman had never been particularly drawn to men or women, but seeing Harry like this was a thing of utter beauty. Barely conscious, entirely consumed by lust, and thrust upon Norman like a living fuckdoll.

Harry’s eyes slid closed, nuzzling his head against his father’s chest and making quiet sounds of pleasure as the suit did all the work in hastening a quick series of thrusts to bring them both to climax. The cum was absorbed into the goo and the symbiote receded to form only a snug body suit around Harry. Norman vaguely wondered about its strange ability to so effectively conceal its mass, alter its density and texture. _‘It truly is such a remarkable creature._ _A shame that it had stumbled into the possession of his dimwitted son.’_

Norman winced as he shifted onto his side, one arm wrapped around Harry and the other reaching down to pull the dildo out of his ass and carelessly toss it aside. With a sigh of relief, he settled back down and contentedly ran his fingers through his son’s hair. Harry sighed and nuzzled his face into the crook of his father’s neck. Norman was almost tempted to let Harry stay the night, to fully enjoy the rush of hormones that came with his orgasm, but he didn’t want to explain how Harry had wandered in here during his sleep. However, the boy was clearly exhausted so it wouldn’t hurt to just lie here together for a little while.

Norman dozed off, cuddled naked against his symbiote-clad son. The buzzing sound of his phone on the nightstand woke him. Luckily, he had enough presence of mind to keep from disturbing Harry’s slumber.

Gently, Norman extricated himself from the tangle of limbs they’d fallen into, stopping to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of the teen’s chest. His son seemed so quiet and peaceful as he almost never was when fully conscious. It was a bit disquieting to note the way his heart ached for his son just then. He would’ve very much liked to continue holding him, but the morning was fast approaching. He needed to move the boy back to his own bed before Harry had a chance to realize anything was amiss. Norman didn’t bother with getting dressed, planning to take his shower as soon as his son was properly taken care of. It was long overdue, especially given how much exertion his body had been put through the previous night. 

Carefully, he picked Harry up, slipping one arm under his son’s legs and another behind his back, resting Harry’s head against his shoulder as he carried him back to his own bed. Idly, Norman acknowledged the fact that he was carrying the beautiful boy bridal style across the threshold of his private quarters. In another context, this could’ve been the lead-up to a wonderful night and not the aftermath of just a strangely erotic one.   

After safely tucking the boy into bed, giving his face one last soft caress, and a quick kiss on the forehead, Norman turned to leave. At the door, he hesitated, sparing his son one last glance. He had to admonish himself for pondering the possibility of a repeat performance. Tempting though it may be, Norman decided that he’d have to find a way to deal with the symbiote before daring to seriously consider it.

Once in the shower, fully awake and recovered from the rosy soft feelings of affection that arose in response to his orgasm and the embarrassingly sweet aftermath. Norman seriously wanted to contain that damn alien. _How fucking dare it attack him in his own bed. And while attached to his own son._

It was unacceptable that he'd allowed himself to even briefly forget the implications. Harry is his son. If anyone ever found out that such a thing had transpired between them, _if Harry ever realized that it was more than a dream…_ it was nearly criminal. Harry was barely eighteen.

Legality aside, the public already thought Harry was a fallen hero, a victim. Whether or not the boy wanted his father was irrelevant, Norman would appear to be taking advantage of his son, the rumors suggesting that he had in anyway been involved in Eddie’s crimes would resurface. The potential damage it could do to his reputation was immeasurable. A repeat performance was completely out of the question, whether the symbiote was dealt with or not.

 

**Alternate idea:**

I'm going to have to edit the scene where Wiggly sexually assaults Norman Osborn. Since I'm rearranging my plan so that Wiggly KNOWS he's the Green Goblin, but hasn't told Harry. I think it would try to blackmail Norman Osborn with that information, to get him to treat Harry better, to give the kid what he wants.

Because the idea of forced cuddles between a sleepy Harry and his father and the symbiote amuses me. Especially since the symbiote would probably cop a feel everytime and Norman would accidentally get sort of Pavlovian trained/conditioned to get aroused by Harry. Plus, with the way I've decided Wiggly can fuck with people's hormones, it could up Norman's libido and basically be responsible for Aromantic Asexual Norman's sexuality changing.

It would be really funny/horrible if Harry actually WOKE UP during one session and realized that all those dreams had been REAL and he had unintentionally been RAPING HIS FATHER while he slept.

 

**What That Might Look Like:**

After the battle, Norman managed to return home before Harry, with time to shower and  change before he heard the private elevator arrive on their floor. Dressed down, in his usual evening attire, Norman quickly checked to make sure that none of his injuries were visible before he walked out to greet his son. It was not difficult for him to assume a bad temper, he was _furious_ with the boy for allying himself with Spider-Man and the Symbiote.

“Harry? Where have you -” the teen was limping, braced against the wall as he removed his shoes. His clothes were stained with blood and dirt. There were bruises and cuts blooming across his face and continuing down his neck, disappearing under the collar of his black jacket. “What happened?” Norman’s angry tone, regretfully, gave way to concern. _Of course he’d already known that his son had been injured,_ but he needed to feign ignorance for now.

“It’s just a few scrapes and bruises, it’s nothing. I’m fine, Dad.” Harry’s reassurances were undercut by the slight rasp in his voice. He paused to clear his throat, before ambling towards the bar, deciding that it was closer than the kitchen, and rummaging for a bottle of water in the fridge there.

“Let me have a look,” Norman insisted, resisting the urge to rush forward and _grab his child by the throat._ His quick steps slowed when he saw black spikes jut out from the back of his son’s jacket, Harry didn’t seem to notice the symbiote's defensive maneuver. _'So it retains a mind of its own?’_ Norman made a mental note to ponder the implications, later, once his son had been dealt with.

“No, I -” Harry grimaced, taking a greedy drink from the bottle. _'As much as I’d like to enjoy having Daddy attend to my injuries, their severity would be difficult to explain.’_ Harry shook his head, trying to ignore the way the movement made him dizzy and nauseous. _“_ Peter’s Aunt May already helped me patch up the worst of it.” Harry began checking cabinets, trying to remember where he’d hidden a bottle of painkillers. _'Codeine. Good shit, it would mix really well with half a shot of vodka, put me out like a light. Where is it?’_

Norman stood back, trying to assess the extent of the damage by the way Harry cringed and gingerly seemed to favor one side. The foolish boy had _hugged a_ _grenade earlier that same night,_ it was a wonder that he was still breathing, let alone _upright and coherent enough to carry a conversation._

“What happened? Did you get into another fight, Harry?” Under normal circumstances, he would be highly critical and assume that Harry was somehow responsible for his own injuries. But mostly, the Goblin in him was pleased at having an opportunity to allude to their previous activities without giving himself away in the process. He would be able to catch the boy in what he knew would be an outright lie, and further practice identifying his tells.

“It was just some stupid thugs, tried to mug me and Peter. Spider-Man saved the day, but we missed our bus. So I hailed a cab and...” Harry rambled on with his ridiculous excuse. Norman had never noticed that his son was such a talented liar. If he hadn’t already known the truth, he may have even believed this story. “...anyway, I had to make sure Peter got home safe, and May made a big fuss. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come home so late. I probably should’ve called to check in. Didn’t realize you’d wait up for me.”

“I wasn’t, I just hadn’t gone to bed yet.”

“Oh,” Harry was disappointed, but unsurprised. “Working late again?” his father nodded, mutely. Harry yawned, he was absolutely exhausted. After the beating he'd taken, he just wanted to crawl into bed and stay there for days. He wished he could’ve slept with Petey, but he didn’t want to impose on Aunt May. Besides, it was difficult to just forget the fight they’d had. The conflict over Wiggly and the Avenger’s insistence the alien could not be trusted. That Harry can’t be trusted. 

The stress was wearing the new hero to the bone. ‘ _How had Peter ever managed to fare so well on his own?’_ More reasons to feel inadequate. If his Dad would be less of a jerk, now would be a good time for a gentle hug, mindful of his injuries. He’d have been glad just to be able to lie down next to the older man, to feel his heat, his presence, and feel protected.

“Harry,” his father’s voice seemed to echo, as if he was there and he wasn't. Harry was so very tired. He didn’t remember where he was, had he gone to bed? The last thing he remembered he was standing at the bar. But everything had gotten so dark, he was enveloped in a soft, silky blackness, he felt weightless.  

**_“Shhh, the boy sleeps.”_ **

“Venom.”

**“We prefer Wiggly Goop.”**

“You mean to try to intimidate me with a name like _Wiggly Goop?”_

It hissed, **“Host likes the name.”** The alien actually sounded irritated by the insult. ‘ _How cute,’_ Norman made no efforts to disguise his disgust, this thing could easily sense his rage regardless. **“It’s endearing.”** It said the word as if it didn’t fully understand what it meant, but knew that this quality was somehow important. Norman wanted to punch his son right in his stupid face for effectively reducing _his monstrous creation_ into a children’s cartoon character. If this _thing_ began to talk about the power of friendship, love, or forgiveness he may just have to scrap his plans for it entirely.

“And what is it you hope to do? Are you trying to _endear_ yourself to me or frighten me, creature? In either case, _Wiggly Goop_ is a sorry excuse for a name. _You are Venom._ ”

 **“We do not** ** _care_** **for what you think or what you call us,”** the creature growled, **“And who are you, Father? Norman Osssborn or should we call you** ** _The Green Goblin_** **?”** as it stalked forward, out of the shadows, Norman realized that it was both taller and wider than him by nearly a foot. _‘Intriguing, the way it’s able to alter its mass definitely requires further study.’_ Despite the alien’s imposing figure, Norman was unmoved and appeared unimpressed. **“You attacked us, you hurt us, even** ** _after_** **you saw your son’s face, you** ** _tried to kill us._** **Tell usss why.”**

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

The CEO’s cool composure in the face of an otherworldly threat was unusual and just a bit unsettling. Since finding itself on this strange planet, the symbiote was unaccustomed to this sort of reaction. It flicked its inhumanly long tongue in front of the man’s face. He didn’t reel back or flinch at all, only hardened his stare. It tasted no fear. **“Are you brave or stupid, human? Would you rather wait and explain yourself to Harry, when he wakes, hm? Or perhaps instead I shall retrieve the Spider and his friends, so you can explain to them.”**

“None of them know, as of yet?”

**“I have not told them. Yet.”**

“Not even Harry?”

 **“Host would rather not know, so we do not tell him.** **_We protect our host.”_ **

_'This must be a recent development.’_ It never seemed to care about the welfare of any test subjects they’d used to experimentally bond with Venom. Most of them quickly perished, died of fright or were literally torn to pieces by the enraged alien. ‘ _But it chooses to protect Harry? Why?’_

 **“We do not care about your crimes, only your relationship with the hossst** **_and his mate._ ** **You will stop your crusade to harm them both. Or we will stop you** **_from existing.”_ **

**_“Harry lovess his father,_ ** **despite everything. Host would not wish harm upon you. But** **_we would force your compliance. We know what you are._ ** **What you are capable of.** **_We can sense when you would do us harm, before you have the chance to act._ ** **You would be wise to comply. Obey** **_or die.”_ **

“My compliance for what? What is it you want from me?”

 **“Host wants his father’s love.** **_We only want to fulfill our host’s desires.”_ **

“Love?”


	7. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And in the original version of events, Venom!Harry attacked and nearly killed Norman (cracked his skull open during an argument) and this caused Harry to freak out and lose control. The Avengers mangaged to subdue and forcibly separate Harry from the symbiote (although, the alien managed to escape containment and slip into the sewer). Both Harry and Norman both wound up in the hospital as a result. The following scene is when they both came home together, still recovering from their injuries but insistent that they wanted to go home. 
> 
> And this is the scene where I intended Norman and Harry to begin their secret affair. 
> 
> *Note: in this version, I had planned for Norman to have murdered Harry's mother. And also, there's some really silly foreplay/dirty talk, because I'm a dork and Norman is still recovering from a head injury.

 Norman grabbed Harry by the neck, tilting his son's head up and slightly to one side so he could lean down and kiss him. Closed mouthed, at first, with only a small dart of his tongue to help wet their dry lips. Harry went rigid, but he didn't pull away. They were both still unsteady on their feet. When one of his father's hands found its way to the small of his back and continued to trail down to meet the curve of his ass, Harry gasped. Norman took advantage of the new access and deepened the kiss. Harry eventually regained his senses enough to properly respond, wrapping his arms around his father's shoulders. The hand on Harry's ass cupped one cheek so he could lift the boy off his feet, while the other one found purchase on his son's hip to help balance them. They both clumsily stumbled forward until Harry's back was up against the wall.

When they finally pulled away for air, Norman breathed close to his son's ear, in a hot whisper, "How disappointing. I expected better, Harry." The boy's breathing was already heavy and ragged, but this caused it to hitch. His heart might've skipped a beat. His nerves were overstimulated. He couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to push his father away, drag him closer or just curl up into a ball and cry. One of Norman's hands slid up to gently caress Harry's face. "Now, let's try this once more, _with feeling._  In fact, we won't stop until I'm properly satisfied with your performance."

Harry turned to look at him with wild eyes, taken aback by the tenderness in his father's gaze. He still sounded every bit like the man he knew, but Harry couldn't make sense of this - of this sudden change of heart. His father wanted him. Actually wanted to _kiss_ him.

This had to be a dream. A hallucination. There was a gas leak. Maybe they were both dead. Or maybe his father's head injury was much more serious than they thought. It didn't even matter if any of this was real. He'd probably never get another chance to enjoy such an intense form of affection from his father. _But if Dad starts really slurring words, gets a bad nosebleed or his eyes dilate funny, then we're stopping to call for an ambulance._ In the meantime, Harry had already decided to take full advantage of this situation.

At some point between being lifted and backed up against the wall, Harry's legs had hooked around Norman's waist and now Harry pressed one heel to the base of his father's spine in an effort to coax his hips to thrust forward. As he did, Harry's hands slid from Norman's shoulders to tangle in his father's hair. _"W_ _ith feeling,_ " Harry agreed, "yeah, I can do that." His grin turned mischievous, " _can you?_ "

Norman's face was still buried in the crook of his son's neck, and Harry felt him smile against his throat, giving him a fleeting bite for his impudence. In answer, he let Harry slip lower on his hips as he thrust up, pressing the heat that had gathered in his groin against the inside of the boy's thighs. Harry's resulting moan was muffled by his father's tongue. Eagerly, Harry closed his lips around the invading appendage, licking at it and sucking until Norman distracted him with another roll of his hips.

Harry's head fell back against the wall with a dull smack, he was vaguely aware of his father making a small tittering sound, he could feel the quick soft exhales against his throat. Harry rolled his head to one side, to expose more skin to his father's reach, tightening the grip he had in Norman's hair as he did, until he felt the tickle of his father's nose brush the underside of his jaw. He moaned appreciatively as Norman's tongue and teeth went to work teasing an approximate path from around his hyoid to clavicle.

As Norman blew on the trail of moisture left in the wake of his kisses, Harry's body convulsed, legs tightening and straining to pull the older man closer, but Norman _insisted_ on keeping _the most frustrating_ inch of space between them. " _Dad, please, ah, fuck me,_ " _Oh shit._ Harry just said that aloud. He could nearly melt from embarrassment if the heat from all this lust hadn't already rendered him temporarily shameless. 

Norman leaned in to speak softly against his son's temple, "I'm still only at half mast, if you want this ship to sail, you'll have to do better than that." The statement carried a special note of condescension. _In other words, 'you need to earn it.' He's taunting me. Teasing me. Two can play at that game._

With one hand still fisted in his father's hair, Harry forced Norman to look him in the eyes as his other hand reached down between them and fingered his father's waistband. Norman made a sound between a _purr_ and a _growl._ Harry proceeded to cup the front of his father's pants. " _Hey_ , I'm not the one keeping this boat," Harry squeezed for emphasis, "tethered to the dock."  Harry's thumb fingered the button while two fingers made a clawing motion to find the zipper. "You'll have to loosen at least some of these restrictions if we're ever going to make it out of the harbor."

"Careful, Skipper," Norman's tone was one of warning as he moved to close the distance between them. His hands, still on Harry's ass, pressed _hard_ as his hips thrust forward. Harry had to wrap both arms around his father's shoulders to steady himself. When their bodies stood flush against each other from chest to groin, Harry saw stars behind his eyelids before he even realized he'd closed them. "Do you really think you're ready to navigate _bigger_ waters?"

The only sound Harry could make in response just then was unintelligible. Norman carefully resumed bestowing his son with small kisses, one by his temple, several down the side of his face, until he was lightly biting Harry's bottom lip. Now was not the time to be arguing about boats, no matter how amusing the extended metaphor. Or perhaps Harry was really just too distracted to think of a good rejoinder, _either way,_ there were more pressing matters to attend to with his mouth. Harry pushed back hard, rolling his hips and aggressively nipping back at his father’s lips until they’d spread wide enough to grant him access.

The clash of teeth, tongue and lips quickly progressed into something far more sloppy than Harry believed his father would ever deem acceptable. It was then that Harry noticed how Norman's grip was slipping, it had significantly weakened since this adventure began, his knees were beginning to shake with the effort of holding their position. " _Ahh_ , aw shit," Harry had to remind himself that they were both still recovering from what had been life threatening injuries. "Dammit. Stop, Dad, put me down."

 _"Hmm. No_." His father whined, before catching himself and reasserting his authoritative tone, "No," Norman pushed Harry more heavily against the wall, in an attempt to compensate for his waning strength. "Ahm not finish yet." _Fuck_. For as serious as Norman tried to sound, this would've been funny if Harry wasn't really worried for his father's welfare.

"Dad, your speech is starting to slur, you _need_ to lie down." Harry braced his arms around his father's shoulders as he lowered his feet to the floor. Once he was on solid ground again, Harry took a moment to assess the slight sway in his father's posture. Norman would never admit to the weakness, but his balance was definitely off.  "I'll call for the doctor."

"No, no, Ah'll be fine," Norman reassured, shrugging off his son’s hands,"Ahm jus' tired. Ah- _I_ need rest, that's all." His son didn't seem convinced, he was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he listened. In a very uncharacteristic gesture, Norman playfully ruffled his son's hair. When Harry's mouth fell open in surprise, he stole one more kiss from the boy before backing away. Norman barely made it three steps before he was instinctively reaching out to steady himself. Silently cursing the room for  suddenly beginning to spin. Harry was already at his side and tentatively reaching for his arm. "Just - just help me to bed." Harry nodded, put one arm around his father's waist, and let Norman lean into his shoulder to steady himself as he guided him to the penthouse's master suite. 

Harry helped Norman to the bed and quickly excused himself, taking refuge in the en-suite bathroom, and trying to console himself in front of the mirror.

When Norman started calling his name, Harry had to steel himself, and silently begged his flagging erection to continue the downward trajectory. _When he comes to his senses tomorrow, he won't forgive me. He may never forgive me. He probably won't ever want to look at me again. It's_ wrong. _He's clearly not himself._  "Son, please, come back." With one more deep breath, Harry turned to leave the en-suite, and immediately froze in the doorway.

"Ah, there you are, Harry. It's too bright, dim the lights, will you? But not too dark. I want you to see this." Norman's clothes were scattered across the room, haphazardly thrown by the looks of it. Harry's father was completely naked and stretched _invitingly_ across the master bed.

Harry's brain stalled. He couldn't ever remember seeing his father with his shirt off before, never mind being completely nude and _hard._ He had no idea that Norman's physique would be so fucking _cut_ underneath all those business suits. _Fuck._

His erection had returned full force, it almost hurt to walk, and _shit, when did I start closing the distance?_ "The lights, Harry," his father had to remind him, and _dammit._ Harry nearly tripped when he had to turn around and stumble towards the dimmer switch. As he adjusted the switch, he swore his father's eyes glimmered in the fading light.

"Perfect. Now why don't you get a little more comfortable before you join me." It wasn't a question. Norman's self-satisfied smile was practically feline, in anticipation of having its cream. _Did he mean - oh god - he wants me to take my clothes off._  Harry opened his mouth to object, but he lost the will to contest the demand after he followed his father's gaze to the prominent bulge in his own jeans. Okay, fine. You win again, penis.

"I, um, I guess it is kind of ha-hot in here." Harry pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion before dropping it on the floor. ‘ _Getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off,’_ the lyrics of an old song immediately came to mind, and he might’ve wiggled his hips just a little bit to the imagined beat as he rubbed his hands down his chest self-consciously. The teenager was uncomfortably aware of how miniscule his physique was compared to the godly prominence of Norman’s defined musculature. As he toyed with the waist of his jeans, Harry vaguely hoped that the gesture had seemed sexy rather than just insecure. 

He fidgeted with the trappings of his pants for all of an extra three seconds more than necessary before he let them fall around his ankles. Stepping out and kicking them aside, he took a deep breath. Right now, Norman only had eyes for him, this was all Harry had ever wanted. Not exactly the same context that he had always imagined, but right now _sex_ felt as good as _love._ The symbiote couldn't even tell the difference. Besides, beggars can't be choosers. Harry hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. 

_The moment of truth. All or nothing. Go big or go home. For God's sake, stop acting like a stuttering, blushing virgin. Put your game face on, Harry. You're sexy as hell. Own it._

Harry wore his best self-satisfied smirk as he pulled down his underwear in front of his father. Norman seemed more amused than anything else, but the old man’s arousal was still unmistakably obvious. Content with his son’s nakedness, Norman patted a spot on the bed just beside himself, inviting Harry to join him, “Coming?”

“Not yet, but I fully intend to,” Harry promised, “where do you keep, um,”

“The bedside drawer.”

Harry’s eyes were wide as saucers when he saw the contents of said drawer. Not only lube and condoms, but a glass wand that looked eerily similar to the one that Harry had dreamed about watching Norman fuck himself with.

Noticing the way his son lingered by the drawer, Norman mistook it for simple hesitance and reluctantly asked, “Having second thoughts, Harry?”

“Um, I -”

“Well, if you’re not going to give me a hand in dealing with this,” Norman gestured towards his own erection, “at least give me the proper tools to handle it myself.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open, gaping at his father’s willingness to masturbate in front of him, but he quickly recovered enough to say, “No, I - I’d love to give you more than a hand.”

“Ah, that’s my boy, Harry, c’mere. Just the lube should be enough.”

Norman pulled Harry down and then rolled, so that he ended up hovering above the boy beneath him. After applying a bit of lube to wet both of their dicks, they resumed kissing, passionately, while their naked bodies writhed against each other. One of Norman’s large hands pressed their cocks together as he thrust his hips.

Harry felt drunk, he was so delirious with pleasure. The sheets were so smooth, their bodies so hot, and he just couldn’t help himself. Just a little bit of frottage and Harry was already spent all over himself and his father, splattered with cum. Meanwhile, Norman was still hard against him.

“Are you planning to clean that up or shall I?”

“Um, I could get up and fetch a towel?”

“No, you’re not getting away that easy,” and Norman moved to - to lick the ejaculate from Harry’s stomach and to lightly suck whatever fluid remained on his dick. Harry gasped loudly and badly wished he hadn’t cum so prematurely.

When Norman was pleased that he’d thoroughly cleaned Harry of cum, he kissed, licked and sucked his way back up Harry’s torso. Paying special attention to his belly, the curve of the bottom most rib bones and the peaks of his son’s nipples. The noises Harry made were indecent, primal and so deliciously uninhibited.

After a particularly rough bite just above his collarbone, Harry gasped, “Dad, please, let me - oh fuck, let me suck your cock. Please. May I?” As his father pulled back to look at him, Harry graced him with the most sultry puppy eyed look he could muster. When Norman neglected to answer immediately, Harry rushed to explain, “I want to - to make you feel good. You’re so fucking amazing, your dick deserves the worship. Oh, God, I just -” his rambling was cut short as his father kissed him again. By the time Norman pulled away, his son was left breathless.

“Harry, I’ll gladly let you. But once you start, I make no promises that I won't lose control and try to fuck your throat.” 

Harry’s grin was wide and mischievous. Glad for the opportunity to finally be able to prove his worth to his father, Harry pushed the old man onto his back. "Go ahead.  Be as rough as you like. I can take it. _All of it._ ” Harry’s proclamation sounded exactly what you’d expect from a spoiled sex-crazed brat, all brash and overconfident, just begging for a challenge.

As Harry crawled down the length of his father’s body, he refused to break eye contact. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, he’d been salivating in anticipation of this since he’d re-entered the room to find Daddy’s proud dick completely exposed and presented so provocatively in front of him.

...

 

 _He can't be upset with me tomorrow. I - I wasn't taking advantage, I only did what he told me to_. Harry tried to reassure himself _. Maybe he won't even remember. God, no, this was too incredible. It's not possible to just forget something this good. But if I manage to leave before he wakes, maybe he'll think it was all just a dream. Play dumb in the morning, we can both pretend this never happened._ But Harry's gut twisted at the thought of carrying on, business as usual, as if nothing had changed between them.

Norman could sense how tense and nervous his son was beside him. For a moment he contemplated kicking the angsty teen out of his bed so he could get some sleep. But then who knows what trouble he'd wake up to. Instead, Norman shifted closer, rolling onto his side and nuzzling his son's hair from behind. "Harry, you're thinking too much." His son went rigid. Norman didn't even bother to open his eyes, they were close enough that his searching hands could easily find and pull his son against him with ease. Once he had his son's backside held firmly against his chest, he kissed him softly by his ear. "Go to sleep." One of Norman's hands rubbed soothing circles on Harry's hip. "Get some rest." With every soft touch, Harry breathed a little easier, the tension melting until he lay boneless in his father's arms. "Everything else can wait." This was all the reassurance Harry needed before he let himself fall asleep.

...

 

Norman awoke the next morning with a tremendous headache. His morning breath tasted particularly unpleasant. The lights were still on but thankfully dim. There was a weight draped across his chest and a tickling sensation beneath his chin. As he shifted to sit up and properly assess the situation, he heard a moan and someone else’s erection twitched against his thigh. Norman laid back down immediately, closing his eyes and stifling curses.   _'I_ _t’s far too early for this.’_ Whoever was in his bed was still very naked and so was he. _‘Ugh, why are they still here? And why don’t I remember who -?’_  

There was a very familiar sounding mumble. ‘ _Oh. Oh no. Harry?! What was I thinking?_ ’ Norman prided himself on his ability to stay calm in even the most chaotic, surprising and dangerous of situations. As far as he was concerned, this would qualify in all three categories. After half a second of contemplation, he focused on keeping his breathing even and his muscles relaxed. Feigning sleep would buy him more time to decide how best to proceed.

First things first, _‘what happened last night?’_  Norman remembered bringing Harry home. Pushing him against a wall and making out like a couple of horny teenagers. Luring his son to the bedroom and instructing the boy to de-robe and join him…

Harry was going to be an even bigger problem than his mother.

_What were his options?_

After everything that’s transpired, he’d be one of the most prominent suspects if Harry dropped dead. Eddie had already implicated Norman during his confession. It had been a complete lie, but the rumor was still out there. Only a couple of days ago Harry had incidentally almost killed him.

The Avengers were concerned that the Symbiote might’ve left an unpleasant surprise behind, so the autopsy would be thorough. There would be absolutely no room for error in any potential murder plot.

So this little problem couldn’t be eliminated completely. At least, not now, _not yet._ In the meantime, he’d have to keep Harry close, well behaved. Play the overprotective father in public. The question is how to convince Harry to play his part?

Harry was still useful, besides. He had information on the Avengers and Venom. He might even be able to use the boy as bait to catch the symbiote. 

Norman so rarely gave in to his carnal impulses. And Harry’s enthusiasm had been so surprising. Perhaps he saw what Eddie had liked about his son. Harry was just so naturally submissive, so desperate for approval and eager to please.

Norman felt unexpectedly enamored with his son. _‘Such a perfect, pretty little plaything._ _’_   The power he had over Harry last night had been intoxicating. Now that Norman had a taste, it would be so tempting to exploit... this could become a dangerous distraction. Harry Osborn was a liability.

...

 

“Dad, I think we should both take another sick day and stay home, together. Last night - well, I mean, obviously you were still being affected by your head injury. It wouldn’t do for you to go back to work now and risk making any more, uhh, impulsive decisions? After everything that’s happened, I’m sure my teachers will cut me some slack." 

Frustratingly, Harry did have a good point.

“Your morning breath is atrocious and I’m sure mine isn’t any better.”

“I’ll go… brush my teeth and get dressed then. Meet you in the kitchen for breakfast?"

“No. I have a spare toothbrush in my vanity. Clothes can wait. We should probably take a shower as long as we’re in there.” 

“A shower - _together?”_

“Like you said, Harry, we’re both recovering from some severe injuries. It wouldn’t do for one of us to slip and fall. So it’s best we stay together and look after each other.”


	8. Escape Attempts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this version, it is public knowledge that Harry had been involved with Spider-Man (because as Black Suit Spidey, Harry made a very public claim to him), but it was not as widely known that Harry and Peter were dating, they managed to keep it pretty discrete. 
> 
> So Harry had no way of knowing that The Goblin had already learned Pete's secret identity. Or at least, that was the plan when I wrote this dumb draft.

**Harry’s Second Failed Escape Attempt**

As Harry stumbled out of the building, he was overwhelmed with emotion. The utter joy of accomplishment, the rush of freedom and hope renewed. There was a lot to take in: the stink of the city, the brisk night air,  the blare of sirens in the distance, and the glare from all the city lights.  It was such a relief just to be outside again. But it was a shock, too, because everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn't take but a couple moments before the fervor took a dark spiral.

The city is never safe at night. Especially not alone, barely half dressed, with no shoes, no money and no phone. The nightmare wasn't over yet. He still needed to find safety. He needed to find his way home. He'd need help, before the Goblin had time to notice that he was gone, who knew what the mad man might've rigged to keep tabs on him. It was highly doubtful that the villain had left him there without some form of surveillance, he'd probably tripped a silent alarm. He needed to move quickly.

He didn't recognize any of the street names. All the cars that lined the road looked busted up, the windows on the buildings were barred or boarded up, the pavement filled with cracks, the sidewalk littered with trash, several of the lights flickered and buzzed pathetically, all in all this place had definitely seen better days. Definitely the wrong side of town.

There was precisely zero chance of hailing a cab here. Harry needed to find a place with open doors, get to a phone, and call in the police - _no_ , if Goblin was on his way they wouldn't be enough. As much as he was loathe to ask them for help after what they did to Wiggly Goop, he needed to call in the Avengers. Not wasting anymore time standing around, he picked a direction at random and started walking. It only took half a block before he found his godsend.

Harry had never been so happy to see the dim green, orange and red  glow of a dusty old 7-Eleven before. The sight actually brought tears to his eyes, he didn't even bother to wipe them away as his feet carried him closer. His vision was so blurred he almost didn't notice the dark figures crowded together, smoking and drinking on the corner, but they definitely spotted him. A funny little tingle raised the little hairs on the back of Harry's neck and sent a shock to every nerve in his body. Immediately he felt wide awake, tensed, ready for fight or flight, amped up and terrified out of his mind.

"Hey boys, what do we have here?" His heart nearly stuttered to a stop before it quickened fast as a frightened rabbit, _'Oh, god, please, no, I'm so close. Just let me get to a phone.'_ Harry tried to hurry forward towards his only hope for help, but stopped short as a little ' _ding_ ' sent another shock down his spine, the stranger exiting the shop stood in front of the door, blocking his path, and wore the same colors as the other men. "Hey, Benny, check this guy out," the same voice called out towards the asshole obstructing his path to freedom.

The obstruction was tall and wide, built like the Rhino - minus the ridiculous armor, thankfully - and looked about just as dumb. "Hey, kid, what's your name?" his voice was almost gentle, maybe even concerned, as the man's eyebrows knit in confusion,  "You okay? What're you doing outside dressed like that?" If it had been just this one guy, maybe Harry would have been okay, but the nasty gaggle of drunk idiots were still fast approaching and only a few yards off.

One of the more rambunctious fools shouted, "Yeah, kid, don't you know that this city is full of creepy sex perverts."

“I - _please,_ I just need to get to a phone,” Harry explained while trying to walk around Benny, but the door was entirely blocked by the man’s bulk and he was far too big to push out of the way without Wiggly’s assistance. _God, did he miss the symbiotic alien right now._

“Benny, stop him,” one of drunkards ordered, and Harry jumped back just as the big man reached towards him.  

"You sure you ain't a ho looking to score some cash for blow?” Harry turned tail, walking as fast as he dared in the other direction. "Hey, we're talking to you! Get back here." The sidewalk was littered with debris and the cold, hard concrete hurt his feet, but scrapes and bruises were the least of his concerns. As the gang gave chase, he broke out into a run. He hadn't even made it half a block before he sliced a toe open on a shard of broken glass. He cursed and limped off into the street, getting hit by an inattentive motorist suddenly seemed like a really good idea. But Benny caught up and pulled him back onto the sidewalk.

He'd definitely be needing a tetanus shot later, if he survived this.

"What's your hurry, love, you got some place to be?"

"No, please, leave me alone. I just want to go home."

"Holy shit, is that who I think it is?"

"No! Please, don't hurt me. My father has lots of money, I'm sure he'll be willing to pay for my safe return. Fuck, please, please, don't touch me."

"I think it is. Harry fucking Osborn. Weren't they saying on the news that you disappeared?"

"Kidnapped, I think. By the green weirdo."

"Oh, yeah! See here, Harry, me and my boys always preferred Tombstone. That bloke knew how to run the business. The Green Goblin's just a wackadoo. What was it that he wanted with you, anyway?"

Maybe one of them will be smart enough to suggest that it's a bad idea to get tangled up in a mess that involves both The Goblin and The Avengers.

"Hey, didn't anybody ever tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Benny?"

“Oh, yeah, Jeff, didja see those videos?”

“ _Ew, no, I didn’t watch any of that._ I ain’t no paedophile.”

“Well then just take my word for it, this boy knows how to suck cock like a pro. I’ll bet ‘Big Daddy Norman’ will be very eager to have his baby boy back.”

“He will. He’ll pay, whatever you want,” Harry promised, “and I’ll cooperate, really, if all you want is the ransom.”

“Aw, but I know you got a whole lot more to give than just cash, Fairy.”

“Fuck off, Johnny, you’re scaring the poor thing,” and this guy - which one was it? Jeff? -  wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, don’t worry about these mooks. Their bark is worse than their bite. We’ll get you home safe. Don’t cry, aight? There, there. Our place is just around the block. These idiots can barely hold their load for three good thrusts. It’ll all be over real quick. Then we’ll call your Daddy, get the cash, and probably shoot you in the head.”

Harry choked on a sob while the gang howled with laughter.

“Jeff’s just fucking with you kid. Ain’t nobody wanna put a hole in your pretty little head.”

"That depends entirely on how well he gives head. But if he's as good as you say he is, he ain't got nothing to worry about."

...

 

 **Rescued/Recaptured by The Green Goblin: Punishment for Harry’s Escape Attempt**  

As the scared teen slowly came to, he noticed the dryness of his mouth first. His entire body felt weak, bruised, and cold. He’d been drugged again, probably, he couldn’t remember. His breathing was shallow and labored, his chest hurt badly, and he supposed he’d probably gotten into a fight. Some crazy villain of the week? Harry hadn’t lost control and gone after Spider-Man again, had he? ‘ _Wiggly? What happened?’_ The absence of the symbiote’s presence startled him. He felt so lonely and vulnerable without Goop.  He opened his eyes to darkness, struggling to move, panic began to set in as the drugs wore off and the haziness began to lift. _‘The Avengers, they took Wiggly from me. Why? Where? What have they done to me?’_  

Harry struggled to move, realizing that he was blindfolded and wore shackles on both his wrists and ankles, generously with a bit of padding between skin and steel to prevent too much damage from the rough treatment they might receive. He was tied spread eagle on a bed, each of the four posts felt heavily reinforced. He could feel the chill in the air, seeming to permeate straight to his bones, he felt naked. _‘I am naked. So probably not the Avengers, then?’_ His memories still felt far-away, but he was remembering. 

Everything started to come back in quick flashes: a green mask, a terrifying laugh, cruel hands, super-human strength, and the horrible whirr of the Goblin’s glider. _Shit._ The Green Goblin wasn’t messing around _._ He’d been deadly serious when he'd recaptured Harry during this latest escape attempt. Those men from outside the 7-Eleven - the ones that had threatened to rape and kill Harry - _the Goblin had killed them all without hesitation._

Harry felt sick when he remembered the blood and screams. He was glad for it when he began to salivate, if only for the way it eased the lingering cotton mouth, but swallowing his urge to throw up and keep his turning stomach settled was a difficult and unpleasant chore. It would _really suck_ if he had to lie here in a pool of vomit while he awaited the Goblin’s return. 

Wherever he was, it was quiet around him. Eerily so. He’d definitely, probably, been left alone again. He supposed the Green Goblin had a lot of important criminal business to attend to.

 _‘He saved me and I -_ I stabbed him _. Shit. He’s probably so pissed. I’m so fucked. Literally, figuratively, in every sense and probably quite a few different positions before this is all over.’_

The minutes dragged on. It began to feel like hours had passed, maybe even days.  

 _'What if he never comes back? What if he just leaves me here like this?’_ Harry’s face was wet, the blindfold slowly soaking with tears.

“I’m sorry, please, don’t leave me, Daddy.  Please,” he begged, “don’t leave me here to die. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was so scared, I didn’t know it was you,” he pleaded, “Daddy!” He screamed. “I’ll never do that again, I promise, I’ll never leave you. I’m yours, forever, only yours, I surrender. I - I love my Daddy, with all my heart, please, _just don’t leave me here like this.”_

....  
  


He convulsed under the administration of another electric shock. He heard screaming, his throat hurt, his mouth felt dry, he struggled to breath.   _“Please, stop”_ he begged, but his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

“I like you like this, Harry. So very pretty, _helpless,_ completely at my mercy.” He could practically hear the wicked smile in the older man’s voice. The distortion always made the villain seem almost whimsically insane. All fun and games, especially when someone gets hurt. Harry was still trembling, muscles straining against the bondage, “And _oh am I merciful,_ am I not? Have I been a kind Master?” 

 _No._ But Harry nodded.

The Goblin clicked his tongue, _“Use your words, Harry.”_

 _“Yes,”_ it hurt to speak, but he knew better than to complain. “The Goblin King is as gracious as ever, praised be his name.” Harry’s tone was flat, the words a mockery of his own invention. He thought for sure he’d receive another shock or a slap for his sarcasm.

 _“But then why would you run, Harry? Why would you try to leave me?_ Aren’t you happy here, Harry?”

“Please, I just want to go home.”

“This _is_ your home now, Harry.”

“ _No. Gobby, please, I just - I want my Daddy._ My real Dad. _Please, can I see him? Is he okay? Does he know I’m still alive?”_ The blindfold was wet and warm with his tears. Harry was trembling and trying very hard not to take comfort in the way that the Goblin’s hand reached out to stroke his cheek and to run through his hair.

“ _Shhh,_ Daddy’s here.” Gobby detached the shackles from the bed posts, so that he could comfortably shift Harry into his lap. “ _Oh, my sweet baby boy,_ don’t cry. Daddy’s right here,” the villain held the boy in his arms, nuzzling the back of his head and rubbing soothing circles over the boy’s ribs - they were starting to become more prominent. Harry’s appetite had dwindled, this wouldn’t do, he couldn’t have his son withering away. “You’re not going to try to run again, are you?”  

“No, please - I swear. I’ll be good. I will. I promise, but -”

“No but’s, Harry.”

“Please, just do one thing for me. Can you do that? Just - just send him a message for me.”

“Hm, what do you want this message to say?”

“Tell my Dad, tell him I’m sorry. That I miss him, but that I’m going to be okay. Tell him I love him, please. I didn’t - I didn’t get to say that the last time I saw him.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, I mean, if you could include a return address on the letter, that’d be great, too.”

The Goblin gave the top of Harry’s head a quick kiss and held him tighter. “You know I’m not going to do that, Harry, but it’s a sweet thought. If it helps you sleep at night, we can both pretend I sent it, but you know I won’t.”

Norman gently rocked his son in his arms, humming a happy tune as Harry continued to cry.

“ _Mm, my sweet, sweet boy, so thoughtful. Such a good, loyal son,”_ he crooned by Harry’s ear. The mood abruptly shifted when the Goblin unexpected began to lick the side of his son’s face to taste the tears streaming down his cheek. “ _Now_ , show Big Daddy Goblin how much you miss your father. What lengths would you go to in hopes of being able to see him again?”

“Whatever it takes,” Harry was so glad that his world was dark right now. He could almost pretend that this wasn’t real, none of this was happening. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Mm, such a good, obedient son. Give Daddy a kiss. Mmm, can you taste that?” if he meant the salt from his own tears, yes, Harry had tasted it, “Teenage angst is so delicious.”

Harry whimpered as one of the Goblin’s hands wandered down the front of his body, flicking a nipple, dragging a sharp nail across his navel, and ignoring his cock entirely in favor of parting his thighs. “Touch yourself.”

“I - _what?”_

“Show me how you get yourself off. How do like to be touched, Harry? Daddy wants to know.”

Slowly. Hesitantly. Tentatively. Harry stroked himself, widening the stance of his legs, leaning back against the Goblin. “I - ah, this would be much better if you would -” Harry guided the Goblin’s hands - one to rest on his hip and steady himself, the other to trace circular shapes just under his belly button. “could you - will you please kiss my neck.” Harry leaned to bare as much throat as he could without losing balance. All of these wonderful little sensations were making him dizzy. How long would this last before The Goblin became cruel again?

As things got heated, Harry couldn’t help bouncing, gyrating, and grinding his ass in the Goblin’s lap. Gobby chuckled and tipped them onto their sides, so he was spooning behind Harry as the boy continued to rock his hips and push his bottom against Gobby Jr. 

Without cumming, Harry abruptly slowed his pace. He could feel the Goblin’s erection pressing into his backside. He would probably have to deal with that eventually, so he might as well try to take advantage of the man’s generous mood while it lasted. “You know, I’m not saying that I ever have, but if I had, um, had an affair with my father - well, he would’ve let me fuck him at least once. Aren’t you curious to know what that might be like? All the best Daddy Dom's can take just as well as they give.”

“I’m not your father, Harry.”

“Oh, really?” Harry’s tone was disbelieving, “But _this whole time,_ I was so sure -” if Harry hadn’t been blindfolded, he would’ve seen Norman’s eyes bug out, unbelieving, _the boy couldn’t possibly have deduced_ , after all the efforts he'd made to conceal the truth from his son - “well, I mean, _you_ _have been_ _really_ pushing the Daddy kink. And now suddenly you’re breaking character just because you’re too scared to take it up the ass?” Not that Norman could see through the fabric covering his son’s eyes but he could practically hear him rolling his eyes, “Okay, _fine_ , you could’ve just said no.”

...

 

After two failed escape attempts, the young Mr. Osborn had been placed under more stringent restrictions than ever.

...

Today Gobby would’ve been content to be gentle as he fucked his toy. The shocks from the previous day had caused so much stress on his child.. And it had pleased Norman so much when Harry begged for his father. Norman _did_ want his son to feel safe here, _with him._ He decided that the Green Goblin would be giving his pet a very special treat tonight.

In the dark, as he always was when the Goblin came around, Harry could almost pretend he was with someone else. He kissed the Goblin back, hungrily, hoping to shut him up for as long as possible. As he moaned into the villain’s mouth, Harry thought of Peter. His erection pressed between their bodies as the Goblin lay flush against him.

The villain quite unexpectedly slipped down Harry’s body, wordlessly, too busy covering him with kisses. The Goblin had never been so gentle before. Almost _lovingly tender._ It was like a dream, and it was just so easy to think of his true hero, his love, his Petey, in place of this monster.

“ _Oh._ Fuck, _Petey,”_ accidentally slipped breathlessly from Harry’s lips as Norman was licking his son’s navel and jerking him off with one of those large, rough hands. The sound of _that name_ immediately filled the man with rage. He squeezed painfully tight, digging sharp nails into his son’s penis. Harry’s scream was unintelligible. His back arched as he cried out in pain, Norman quickly ascending the length of his son’s body to drag a hard nipple between his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. Once he was satisfied there, he sank his teeth into Harry’s shoulder, too angry to resist his impulse to leave his mark on the boy. 

Harry tried to stay still, to endure this torture with minimal resistance. Squirming and shrinking into the bed only made it worse. _"Stop_ _, Daddy, please,”_ Harry begged. Finally, the Goblin released his cock but immediately moved his hands to wrap around Harry’s throat instead,  smearing blood along his neck and chin. Harry didn’t understand why the Goblin had been so gentle to begin with, and now the abrupt turn to violence had him in fear for his life. _Did the lunatic just want to keep him guessing? Had Harry done something wrong?_ “I’m sorry, please stop _,”_ Harry tried to say, but all the air had already left his lungs. He could only mouth the words, and pray that Gobby would let go before he suffocated.

Meanwhile, Norman was seething, _he was not jealous of Peter Parker._ Daddy knows what’s best for his son, and Harry wanted _\- Harry needed his father._ Peter was just a sad, poor replacement for what Harry had thought he could never have. It was high time that Norman tell Parker to fuck off and die. _Or better_ , to break that weak little sap’s fragile heart by getting Harry to say it for him. 

Which would be very difficult if Harry was rendered unable to speak. Reluctantly, Norman pulled his hands away, only remembering his enhanced strength when it took longer than expected for Harry to recover his breath. Harry’s neck was bruising quickly, it was lucky it hadn’t broken. He felt a twinge of regret as he watched Harry struggle to continue his silent apologies only to fall into a fit of horrible coughs.

The Goblin was too quiet. The Goblin was never so quiet. He must’ve really upset him, but Harry couldn’t remember what he’d done. The weight of the larger man lifted from the bed. Harry strained to hear what he was doing, but it was so difficult over the sound of blood rushing in his ears with the fierce pounding of his heart. Surrendering to his fate of being surprised no matter what, Harry’s mind went blank for the barest amount of rest that it could get in these circumstances. He was so exhausted, he thought he might have even fallen asleep by the time the Green Goblin finally decided to address him.

“Who’s _Petey_ ?” the villain spit the name, his voice full of disdain. He didn’t so much ask as he demanded to know, “does _Petey_ have a last name? _Where_ can I _find_ this boy, Harry?”

 _“What?”_ he rasped, _“Oh, God, no,_ ” _he must’ve said Petey’s name when - when, oh shit._ Harry was terrified for his friend. He had to swallow hard to clear his throat well enough that he could speak clearly, but his voice was still quite hoarse. “No, _please_ , leave him alone.”

“What is he to you? A lover? _A hero? Have you lied to me about not knowing the Spider’s secret?”_

“No, no, it’s nothing like that! Pete, a hero? Ha! Absolutely not. He’s just some skinny little nerd that used to tutor me. He was sort of a friend, barely even that. He’s nobody.”

“How often do you think of _nobody_ while _I_ fuck you?”

“I - hey, well, to be honest - the activity can get pretty strenuous with you, it can be hard to think at all beyond _yes, god, more, faster._ ”

 _"Allow_ _me to rephrase,_ how often do you think of _him_ while _I’m_ fucking you.” 

“I - I’d never done it before and I’ll _never do it again_ , I promise. _Please_ , he’s _nothing_ to me, I didn’t even mean to, I just - I got confused.”

“Don’t lie to me, Harry.”

“He and I had sex once. _Once._ It was only the one time! We just fooled around, I didn’t even like it that much! You were - it was so soft and I was _tired_ \- I forgot myself for a moment. You wore me out. You may have super stamina, but _I’m only human._ That’s no excuse, though, I _should’ve known_ the difference, obviously, you’re so much better than he was. That boy was clumsy like you wouldn’t even believe. I think it was his first time. But he’s the only one that had ever been that gentle before. Maybe if you’d take the blindfold off -”

“Then I’d have to kill you. Is that what you want?”

“No, please, don’t. But I really don’t see why you’re being so shy. Is your face that messed up? Will I never get another erection again if I see it?” The Goblin whipped Harry’s thigh with a belt, intentionally missing his injured penis by less than an inch. Harry jerked hard, surprised, _"Fuck. Ow. I was kidding._ Are we not past this yet? I’m sorry, really, no, you’re sexy as hell. Like, how did you even know that Halloween masks were a secret fetish of mine?”

“Stop deflecting. You’re obviously lying. Tell me more about Petey, and maybe I’ll believe you when you try to tell me how insignificant he is.”

“Okay, fine! Whatever. What do you want to know? Should I tell you about how small his dick was? I believe _Flash_ would’ve used the word ‘puny’ to describe it. And oh my god, he could barely even keep it up! For someone that’s always running so late, he came way too soon. The whole experience was a horrible disappointment. Really, to be honest, I - I only pursued Peter to make someone else jealous. Okay? It was stupid, so stupid! I didn't even mean for it to get as far as it did!"

“Hmm, does this someone else have a name?”

"He’s...not important either. It was just someone that I knew I could never have anyway, cuz he was older and he wouldn't even be interested in a kid like me? Okay? It's pathetic, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

“This older man. Did you even know his name?”

“I - um, _fine. Okay?_ Peter works at Avenger’s Tower and I _thought_ he could help me hook up with Spider-Man.”

“Oh, don’t tell me, you told the reporter you were dating just to get the Hero’s attention. _And you caught my eye instead_. You stupid, stupid boy.”

“I said that already, it doesn’t really bear so much repeating! I screwed up. Goddamn. Can we move the fuck on? Seriously, are all super-villains this insecure?   _If I had known you’d be such a drama queen_ , Gobby, maybe I wouldn’t have tried to seduce you in the first place. So why don't you just calm the fuck down, get back over here and do that thing with your tongue again.”

“You keep forgetting who’s in charge.”

“So I’m a bossy little shit and you love it. But if you’re feeling emasculated then by all means, come on over here and reassert your dominance.”

“ _Mm,_ tempting, but I don’t think we’re done discussing _Petey_ quite yet.”

“But this isn’t even really about Peter, is it? You’re still mad about the other day. I was just going stir crazy, I swear, _that’s all._ I _needed_ some fresh air. Wanted to stretch my legs. I was going to come back, _really_ ! I just got lost and I got scared. I shouldn’t have run, or um -Harry cleared his throat and mumbles-tried to stab you, _but it was so dark_ and you were wearing a mask. How was I supposed to know that it was really you chasing me and not a hobgoblin or something. _Hey_ , maybe if you’d take me outside once in awhile, give me a proper date night, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“There’s nothing proper about _us_ or what _we_ have together, _pet._ Such an ungrateful brat doesn’t _deserve_ to be wined and dined, _you stupid needy slut._ The only time you should ever need to _stretch your legs_ is when you’re spreading them _for me._ And you should be glad for any quality of air, that you’re even _allowed_ to continue breathing at all.” Punctuate these statements with the Goblin spreading Harry’s legs and choking him.

 _“It - it’s like you said. This is my home. I belong to you. I understand that now. I accept it._ That’s what you want to hear, right?”

“Do you mean it? Do you really believe it now, Harry?”

“I - I don’t really have much choice, do I?”

“Oh, baby, you always have a choice, but Daddy’s here to help you make sure it’s _the right one_.”

“But if ever said yes, you'd just get bored with me. You want me to surrender completely? You're going to have to try harder, Goblin. Cuz _you haven't earned it yet._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note about Harry waking up to the Silent Treatment: Yeahhh, I don't think this was even intentional. Norman was busy covering his tracks with sanitizing the last location and securing this one. Plus, he's juggling his day job, his criminal activities, and occasionally putting forth a little bit of effort to seem like a distraught father if ever there are any new leads about his son's whereabouts. So he just happened to not be there when Harry woke up. And it didn't actually take all that long for Harry to break down. Time goes really fucking slow when you start to have a panic attack. Oh, right, and Norman had to deal with a fucking stab wound which he would not want any record of.
> 
> Also, no, Harry didn't realize that Norman is the Goblin, he was being sarcastic.


	9. It's madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do I even have to put trigger warnings on this mess? It's all fucked up shit that no one should be reading. 
> 
> Anyway, here's two random drafts. The first is a very rough description of a nasty sex scene (that involves water sports and near drowning) and the second is some weird cuddling that involves Norman's perspective on his emerging feels.

**Assorted Torture Scenes**

**Watersports:**

The Goblin affixed a spider gag to Harry. Keeping his mouth open. He was blindfolded, as usual, and otherwise completely naked aside from his restraints.

The Goblin dragged him into the bathroom and forced him to kneel in the tub. He pissed in his hair, in his mouth. Urine and saliva spilled down his chin, dripped onto his chest.

Whenever Harry flinched away, he received a slap in the face and more piss on his tongue. As a small matter of good fortune, at least the Goblin was well hydrated and didn’t smell as though he'd eaten any asparagus lately. It was still far from pleasant, of course, but it could’ve been much worse.

Once the villains bladder was relieved, he took to spitting in his son’s open mouth. Harry was so absolutely disgusted and humiliated. He was crying uncontrollably even while he tried very hard to hold his position, lest he receive another vicious beating for his disobedience.

He couldn’t speak around the gag, had no way to properly verbalize his distress, and he was almost glad for it. Otherwise, he probably would’ve just begged Gobby to fuck him. This was obviously just some sort of vicious, sadistic foreplay. _‘Just screw me and get it over with.’_

Once the Goblin was thoroughly pleased with Harry’s pathetic, miserable state, he put a stopper in the drain and turned on the shower. The water rained down and slowly filled the tub.

“Bend over, ass up.”

Harry couldn’t close his mouth around the gag and he struggled not breath in the water. _'Was this how he would die? Drowned and raped at the same time?’_  

When all the shower fun was done, Gobby shoved him out, into the cold tile floor. Naked, wet, shivering, still bound, gagged and blindfolded. He must’ve laid there for at at least five, probably ten minutes while the room filled with more steam. Gobby was enjoying a hot shower, getting properly cleaned after their debauchery, while Harry still felt dirty and freezing cold.

Finally, the Goblin emerged, with an audible, happy sigh as he looked down at the drooling mess he’d left on the floor.

_“So helpless, Harry.”_

_..._

**Cuddles:**

"Am I ever going to see your face?"

"You should be glad that I haven't allowed it, Harry, or have you finally given up hope for escape? Do you think your hero has stopped trying to find you?"

"My hero is no match for you. Maybe it's better for everyone if he doesn't." Harry sounded dejected. “I want to know who you are, behind the mask. Do you have a family? A wife? Kids? What happened to you? What turned you into this?”

“You want Daddy to tell you a bedtime story.”

“Yes, I’d actually like that. Wait, this isn’t a horror story, is it? Not that it matters, all I have is nightmares anymore anyhow…”

 _“Hm,_ would it help if I stayed the night?”

“If you - what? Why?”

“Daddy doesn’t want you to be scared or lonely. Sit tight, I’ll get you some medicine. Just a little something to help you sleep, so I can stay and hold you without the restraints getting in the way.”

“There. Comfortable?”

“Mmm” Harry assented, nodding, his eyes were already drooping. His tongue felt funny, heavy. He realized that even if he had wanted to shift position at all, he wouldn’t be able to. He could barely twitch his fingers or toes. He was _so tired, so sleepy._

The Goblin’s strong arms wrapped gently around him. Soft and warm, the villain's embrace felt familiar somehow, but he's never hugged him so gently before, had he? _'What am I thinking? I’ve been trapped with him for weeks, of course, by now this seems almost routine, par for the course.’_ Just add late night snuggles - or at least, what he assumed were evening cuddles - to the list of strange things he’d had to do to stay alive. _'Seriously, weird. I didn’t know deranged psychopaths could be so affectionate.’_

“Hey, wha’ 'bout mah sto’y?” Harry had a lazy smile, he wanted to giggle at how funny his voice sounded just then. He felt like a giddy little kid who had climbed into his parent’s bed. The strangeness of the situation was less horrifying, more humorous, and maybe even pleasant. Whatever the Goblin had given him, _‘damn, that was some good shit.’_

 _“Shh,_ go to sleep, Harry. I’ll tell you a story tomorrow.” As his son drifted, Norman leaned in close to breath in the scent of him. It disturbed him how much he cared for the boy. He had _not_ intended for this to happen. He was just having a bit of fun, tormenting Spider-Man and attending to a physical desire that was unusually insistent lately.

After all the time, money and effort wasted on the hope of Harry proving to be a worthy heir, Norman felt entitled to reap the benefits of having such a beautiful son at his disposal, especially since providing sexual satisfaction seemed to be the only thing Harry was good for. Once the risks of the incestual affair going public had definitely began to exceed the benefits, he’d meant to dispose of the nuisance. But now? He found himself hesitating. _The Green Goblin_ should never hesitate! 

Norman Osborn was a strong, decisive man. In his line of business, with both his criminal empire on the rise and his public face under scrutiny, he cannot afford to waste precious time and energy dawdling and doting on this precious fool. No matter how fantastic the sex is. Or how much it hurts his heart to leave him.

_'This is madness.’_


	10. Bound and Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draft of potential scene wherein Goblin is playing with Harry, but they're interrupted by an urgent message that Norman has to go tend to and what that would mean for Harry.

**Bound and Abandoned**

He was blindfolded, as usual. His wrists were shackled to the headboard. His legs tied to his thighs, with lengths of rope attached to the sides of the bed keeping them spread. A vibrating dildo was shoved up his ass.  His nipples ached from both the cold air and the little metal clamps squeezing them.

Things were getting hot and heavy, with the Goblin leaning over him, sucking on his bottom lip, and running those large warm hands along his waist. Harry was squirming against the restraints, not entirely sure if he was trying to get away or move closer.

A buzzing sound interrupted. With a frustrated sigh, the villain backed off of his prone captive. His phone had an urgent message pertaining to one pesky little arachnid. The Green Goblin growled. Harry whimpered, unaware of the cause of Daddy’s ire and fearful of being punished for it.

“Ah, don’t go anywhere. Hold that pose and I’ll be right back. I just have a pest problem to deal with. Shouldn’t take more than a couple hours at most.”

_“Wait, wait! You’re just going to leave me like this?”_

_“Hm.”_ Norman considered for just the barest of moments whether or not he should make the boy a little more comfortable. “Yes,” and then he left.


	18. Office Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... I've been too busy to make much progress with the main story, but I'm getting needy and angsty, so... I found another old draft to post in the hopes of sparking some more feedback. 
> 
> The original plan was for this scene to take place After Harry successfully managed to escape from The Green Goblin (third time's the charm), but he never actually realized the villain's true identity (although, he has his suspicions, he doesn't want to believe that it's really true). 
> 
> So Harry went back to living with his father, and Big Daddy Norman became overprotective/possessive (understandable, given the circumstances, his only child having been kidnapped and tortured for so long). So Norman hardly ever lets Harry out of his sight, which means Harry gets to accompany him to work and hangout in Daddy's office.

Laid back office scene.

Norman’s been busy _all day._ Same as usual, he supposed, Harry really didn’t know what all it took to run a company. But he understood that his father had a lot of information to process. He took a lot of stretch breaks and paced while he worked through problems in his head.

If it was anyone else, Harry would be bored out of his mind. But Harry was carefully attempting to tune his lingering mild form of the Spider Sense to pick up on his father’s shifting moods. The better he could read the man, the more quickly and accurately he could assess how dangerous he really is. And there was still that lingering doubt about whether or not Norman Osborn sometimes dressed up in a Halloween costume to terrorize the city as the Green Goblin.

Part of Harry wanted to bury his suspicions under a mountain of denial, but his more sensible side won. He needed to know. He couldn’t afford not to know what he was dealing with. It made too much sense, in a totally fucked up sort of way.

Wiggly Goop had messed with his libido and his self control so much that Harry couldn’t stop himself from taking advantage of his father. And naturally, Harry is so fantastic in bed that Norman decided to continue the affair. Maybe that was just a lingering consequence after his head injury? Maybe something Wiggly had done to the old man that neither of them was aware of? The reasons don’t even matter anymore.

At some point, Harry truly believed that his father had fallen _in love_ with him. Harry loved Norman, dearly, but he wasn’t _in love_ with his father _,_ oh no. At least, not in the same way that Harry was _in love_ with Peter Parker. Harry was so confused. He wanted to keep them both in his life, but now it seemed as though both men were hellbent on killing each other. Harry couldn’t just pick one and leave the other. He had to at least try to protect them both.

Which made Norman the obvious choice. Peter was a good kid, very smart, attractive, and he'd definitely be able find someone else to love him. It may take a while, but Pete _would_ recover from all this and eventually move on, so long as Harry gave him the distance and time to do so. Losing his best friend, his high school sweetheart, and very possibly the love of his life was devastating.

But Harry had already been broken down. Norman was the man best suited to build Harry back up, into something better than before. Norman would remake Harry into someone worthy of his love.

Here in the now, staring across the room at the same man Harry suspected of being his tormentor, he decided on a course of action.

Harry stood up, stretching as he did, and approached the door. He locked it.  Then pulled the blinds over the window.

“Harry,” his father’s voice was full of warning. He could feel tingles on the back of his neck. This was stupid. Reckless. Dangerous. Harry didn’t care. He began to take his clothes off. Pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion and tossing it aside.

Norman tensed. Harry’s grin was feral. He couldn’t see the bulge from this angle, but he knew his father’s arousal was definitely stirring.

“ _Not now. For fuck’s sake, son, keep your pants on._ We’ll be here all night if I don’t finish this.” 

“All night?” Harry asked, leaning back, striking a thoughtful pose that he knew would highlight his long lean torso. He could see that Norman’s pupils were definitely dilating. “ _Hmm_ , that sounds alright with me. I’ve always been curious about what goes on here in the wee hours. This place is so ominous and foreboding in the daytime, I bet all cloaked in darkness it’s _simply magnificent._ Positively brimming with evil. Who knows what sorts of strange monsters could be lurking around the corners. Octupi, Vultures, human spiders, trolls, _goblins….”_

_“Harry.”_

“Mm, but if we really are going to be here much longer, we should order some dinner. _I’m starving_. What are you in the mood for, Dad? I’m craving something hot. I just want to wrap my lips around a thick, juicy piece of meat, with a generous portion of the special sauce dripping down my chin. _Quick, cheap and sloppy._ _I’m so hungry for it. Daddy.”_

“Besides, you’re overdue for a break. Your focus has definitely been slipping over the last hour. Let me help you relax, destress and then you can get right back at it."

Harry kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants, revealing black lace panties underneath that were woefully insufficient at covering his weeping erection. After a few moments thinking about it, he peeled off his socks as well, tossing them onto the pile. With a cheeky grin, the boy wiggled his hips and delighted as his father’s gaze followed the funny little bouncing motions of his genitals. He wanted to touch himself, badly, but he also didn’t want to obstruct the view.

“Like what you see?” Norman’s eyes flitted back to Harry’s own and narrowed, but he didn’t bother to mask his amusement with any more mild forms of resistance. Norman Osborn’s smirk was possibly the sexiest expression known to man, or to Harry, in any case.

“I’d like it better if you were on your knees.”

Harry was only a few feet away, but he still made a show of crawling towards his father’s lap, waving his pert ass high in the air, licking and biting on his bottom lip in a way he knew would tempt father to kiss him.

Norman couldn’t help but spread his thighs, give his aching groin a little air to breath, but he did not reach to unfasten his belt. If Harry wanted it this badly, he would have to do all the work to get it. Meanwhile, Norman wouldn’t make any more moves to stop him. It felt so good to just lean back and enjoy the show. His son really was the best whore he’d ever had the pleasure of taking to bed.

Norman raised his hips and allowed Harry to remove his pants and underwear. The boy’s hands trailed up to undo the last three buttons of his dress shirt, to allow his hands to more freely roam underneath as he leaned up to kiss his father’s navel, suck at his hip and lick along the Victory trail to his thick, glorious dick.

Norman tightened his hold on his arm rests, it was almost painful to resist the urge to thrust his hips and keep from violently fucking Harry’s throat. His son was the one who boldly sought to initiate this liaison, and Norman did not want to risk scaring him off or starting a scene in his own office.

This boy made him question his sanity, for all the stupid things that he discovered he was willing to do just to continue this ridiculous affair. It was so absurd, how had Harry managed to reduce him to this reckless, depraved fool? He was lusting after a romantic attachment with his own son and absolutely melting with _want_ at the mere sight of his baby boy stripping, willingly offering himself up to be used for his father’s sexual satisfaction. This had gone too far, and still _'not far enough,’_ he thought, as he watched the length of his cock disappear into Harry’s wicked, greedy, sinfully luscious mouth.

He could hardly wait to _kiss_ the boy, and Norman could scarcely remember ever wanting to kiss anyone other than his son. The taste was usually unpleasant. It nearly always felt sloppy and gross, but with Harry he just didn’t care about any of the ways it may be physically awkward. He craved the closeness, the intimacy, the way Harry completely lost himself while revelling in the symbolic gesture of affection.

After Norman finished in his son’s mouth and the boy had licked and sucked his cock completely clean, Harry had taken to peppering his father’s inner thighs with playful little kisses. Harry was still painfully aroused but determined to ignore it, with hopes that Norman would notice and take the matter into his own hands.

Norman pulled his shirt off, and stood completely naked, save for his socks. Harry was audibly whimpering at his feet and clawing at his own thighs to keep from touching his cock.

Norman easily lifted, carried and gently set his son down on the couch. Harry was laid on his back, shivering, panting, eyes glazed with lust, as his father hovered over him.

Norman stroked his son’s cock with one hand, allowing Harry to thrust up and press it against his father’s abdomen as Norman’s deft fingers circled, squeezed and jerked around the shaft.

 _“Oh, fuck, Daddy”_ Harry kept muttering and gasping, breathlessly, between slow kisses. Norman was exceedingly gentle as he lightly nipped at his lips, licked at his teeth and sucked on Harry’s tongue.

Harry’s mouth eventually fell slack and unresponsive as he became too mindless to control his facial features. His father somehow managed to be both _so kind_ and _so cruel_ with the way these torturously slow and gentle strokes kept building towards an orgasm that never quite came. For a short while, Norman instead took to biting and sucking on Harry’s throat, intent on leaving his mark on the boy.

As he could feel his son’s muscles tightening in anticipation of climax, Norman leaned closer to whisper in Harry’s ear, “I don’t say this enough. But I love you. _Unconditionally_ . Harry, I know I can be difficult, sometimes even cruel, but it is only because I care so deeply for you. _Only you,_ as I never have with anyone ever before. _I love you.”_

Harry’s eyes might have rolled back into his head, he was blinded by the force of his orgasm, his whole body felt as though it was arching into his father’s touch, his hands twitching with the urge to drag Norman Osborn closer. There were tears in Harry’s eyes.

 _Fuck, he’d fallen in love with his own Dad._ As if it wasn’t bad enough that he already loved and cared for this horrible man, or that he’d found himself sexually attracted to this gorgeous dick, but now he was actually passionately romantically fucking attached to him? It still wasn’t soft and sweet like with Peter, but _it was about a thousand times more intense._ Maybe he’d feel a little bit better about this if he said he was just madly infatuated. Either way, _goddamn_ , Goblin or not, there was no way Harry could ever betray this man.

“ _Oh fuck, Dad,”_ those strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him tight against his father’s chest. His skin was so hot, though neither seemed to care about the sweat or cum between them. His father made a soft shushing sound and stroked his son’s hair with one hand while the other rubbed comforting little circles against his waist. Harry’s head was tucked under his father’s chin, and he didn't realize he was crying until he noticed that Norman’s neck was wet.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? Harry, are you okay?” Harry was both surprised and elated by the genuine concern in his father’s voice. Not trusting his own voice not to shake, he nodded, smiling against his Dad’s throat and giving it a quick little kiss.

Norman continued to hold him, waiting for verbal confirmation before he would believe his son's reassuring nod. He hadn’t expected Harry to be so affected by his words. True, he’d chosen them carefully, knowing that they would make Harry feel further indebted to his father, but the naked emotion on the boy’s face was tugging on the ever elusive thread connected to Norman’s very limited supply of empathy.

“Yeah, _shit_ , sorry. I didn’t mean to get so sentimental, I know you hate that.”

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s alright, I don’t mind when it’s just the two of us. _Harry,”_ those two big, wet, pleading eyes were gazing up with such devotion, “are you sure I haven’t hurt you?”

Harry laughed, soft and carefree, he felt weightless, his whole body bursting with happy bubbles. “Yeah, I’m good. _Really_ . This is the best I've felt in weeks, maybe months, maybe _ever._ Dad, you know I love you. I -” he ducked his head, his voice getting quieter but nonetheless sincere, “I always have. But do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that?” Harry rolled his head back, exaggeratedly wistful and ecstatic, “And now I just want to hear it again _and again,_ preferably later tonight, _while you’re balls deep inside of me.”_

 _“You’re insatiable,”_ Norman leaned forward to seal the statement with a firm press of his lips on Harry’s, a closed mouth kiss that made a delicious smacking sound. Norman couldn’t remember ever feeling this youthful and stupidly happy before. His childhood had been filled with anger and pain. ‘ _Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to indulge in a bit of romantic, frivolous nonsense for a while. Harry seems so fond of it, certainly it must be worth more than I originally gave it credit for.’_

 _“Yeah, well, you’re one to talk._ Seriously? Have you ever even heard of a refractory period?” Harry's light, teasing tone distracted from the seriousness of his inquiries, “Are you some kind of mutant or something?”

“Or something,” Norman said, feeling sufficiently reassured that his son had recovered, he shifted his weight with the intent of getting back to his feet. “Get cleaned up. I for one have worked up an appetite, I think we should order in. Any requests?”

Harry didn’t bother resisting the urge to sigh happily as he watched his father dress. The fact that his father looked so damn sharp in his suit was consolation enough for being denied the glorious sight of his naked booty. _‘Damn, Daddy knows how to rock that body.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:
> 
> This version featured Harry succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome, and the primary motivation for his escape was being reunited with his father. 
> 
> Also, this version was drafted before I decided to change Norman's backstory to include Mendel/Norman. So that bit about Norman having never really enjoyed kissing people before Harry is all wrapped up in the idea that this version only enjoyed sex for power play and the physical gratification. No lovey dovey crap. But my new version in the main story actually does enjoy lovey dovey crap, and he considers that fact to be one of his dirtier little secrets.


End file.
